


Above The Storm

by villanellemills



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/F, Idiots in Love, Romance, Swan Queen Supernova 2019 (Once Upon a Time), doctor/patient trope, non-graphic shark attack scene, oh no, shark attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-04 15:53:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20473613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/villanellemills/pseuds/villanellemills
Summary: The odds of being attacked by a shark are 1 in 11 million. Somehow, Emma became that lucky number one.Or, the love story where Emma's a surfer chick who gets attacked by a shark and has to spend lots and lots of time in physical therapy with a really hot milf doctor, otherwise known as Regina Mills.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DelicatePoem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelicatePoem/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Above the Storm (ART)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20458637) by [RegalLady36](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RegalLady36/pseuds/RegalLady36). 
  * Inspired by [Above The Storm [Art]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20482508) by [swensundayshow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swensundayshow/pseuds/swensundayshow). 

> Thank you to the people who helped me with this. It's short but it took lots of time to write, and even though I'm not 100% sure it's even good, I really like how it turned out. This is my first time participating in swanqueen supernova, and I'm so excited to see what you all think of this one. Thank you for taking the time to read this as well, I know that since a bunch of other stories will be released, it will be hard to keep up with all of them. I appreciate your support anyway. Love you all!
> 
> -ili
> 
> (also) NOTE: this story does skip ahead a few times during Emma's recovery process. I hope that isn't too much of a turn off. 
> 
> Enjoy!

** _Prologue_ **

It happens in an instant; one minute Emma’s riding the inside of a wave concaving over her and forming into a deep teal-blue and white tube. It’s her favorite part of surfing. Ever since she got her first board at the age of five, she’s  _ dreamed  _ of being inside the tube. It’s one of the most surreal moments she’s ever experienced. Her fingertips glide along the wall of water as she rides the wave, and she grins. This is when she can breathe the easiest. 

In the very next moment, she feels her foot slip, and she’s taking a dive into the cold Northern Pacific water. It’s refreshing and numbing - being in the water this late into the fall. The water churns around her as the wave passes, and she feels the strap on her board snap from the current (which happens to be the third time in six months). She pops out of the water, taking in a big gulp of air as she waits for the water to calm so she can find her board. She looks around, feeling the strap still wrapped around her ankle, but she doesn’t see her board anywhere. “Shit,” she mutters, and begins her paddle back to shore.

And then suddenly, she feels a crushing weight against her upper left thigh, and her mouth opens in a scream of shock, pain ripping through her. She’s being dragged down, farther and farther away from oxygen, swallowed by the water.. In those few seconds, she can see her board floating up, popping out of the turbulent waves and onto the surface, the sun shining down on the silhouette. She sees it then, all of it, just before everything goes dark: a large bite taken out of her board. Then, a deep grey fin thrashing beside her, black eyes, and lots and lots of blood. 

  
  
  


**…**

  
  
  


** _Present_ **

  
  


Emma can’t seem to tear her eyes away from her leg. Wrapped in layers and layers of gauze and bandages. She can barely move her toes without feeling intense pain. 

_ Shark. _

The word stumbles around in her brain, sounding foreign and muddled and unreal. 

_ Shark attack. _

Half Moon Bay isn’t exactly known for sharks. It’s a small town outside of San Francisco, full of locals and tourists and calm, quiet beaches. Emma has surfed there ever since moving to her beach cottage almost four years ago, and even before then, the last recorded shark attack had been years, if not decades before. 

She feels pressure on her hand and her gaze snaps over to it, then her green eyes are meeting bright blue ones and a wide, white smile adorned by red lips. 

“Glad to see you awake.” The brunette says, and Emma assumes she’s a nurse. “We thought we’d lost you there, for a while. I could tell you were tough though.” She winks, and Emma wonders if she’s smiling back— she can't tell because god, she’s numb everywhere. 

“I know you’re still pretty out of it, but if you could try and squeeze my hand, that’ll let me know you’re understanding me.” The nurse says, and Emma complies, grateful she’s in control of  _ something _ . “Perfect! I’m your nurse, Ruby.” 

Emma pushes some more, wondering if she can talk. She feels an ache in her chest and throat (probably from the salt water), and she rasps out a dry “Emma.” 

“Oh good, a name. So far, you’ve been Jane Doe.” 

“Emma Swan.” 

Ruby nods, writing the name down on the chart. “You got anyone you can call, Emma Swan?” 

“No.” 

She’s been all alone since the age of 18, since her last foster parents - the ones she called mom and dad - died. 

Ruby looks at her with concern then, possibly for the first time since Emma woke up, and she fights the urge to roll her eyes. The usual pity she receives from people who think they know her grates on her nerves the most. “Parents died a while back. It’s just me.” 

“That’s okay.” Ruby finally says, hanging the chart back on the edge of the bed. “Your doctor will be by in an hour or so to tell you everything that’s happened in the last few days-” 

“Days?” Emma interrupts. “How long have I been here?” 

“Since Saturday. It’s Tuesday now.” 

“Jesus, I missed three classes!” 

Ruby arches her brows, “I’m sure your professors would understand.” 

“ _ I’m  _ the teacher. Well- a surf instructor.” 

Ruby gives her shoulder a sympathetic pat. “Sorry to say this, Emma Swan, but I don't think you’ll be teaching for a while. The doctor will tell you the extent of your injuries, but for now, is there anything I can do? More painkiller? Water?” 

Emma swallows thickly and relaxes back into the hospital bed. She can feel the bedsores forming on her back and ass and legs, and she shifts (as much as she can) uncomfortably. “Both please? Uh, painkillers and some water...” Ruby winks at her and struts out of the room, as if she works anywhere but a hospital. And despite the extremely fucking horrible circumstances, she finds the other woman’s personality comforting. 

_ Shark attack. Extent of your injuries. Won't be teaching for a while.  _

It all crashes down on her like the worst kind of wave, and she fights back the onslaught of tears. She won't cry, not now. Her leg is still here, despite how intense the pain is, and  _ she is still here. _

Ruby comes back with a syringe and a bottle of water, “I’m going to help you sit up, but be careful because the stitches in your leg are fairly new.” 

And yes - it hurts like a bitch. 

But she feels better when she’s finally adjusted in the new position, she feels relief in her back and legs, and she sips on the water as Ruby injects what Emma assumes is painkiller into her IV drip. 

“This will  _ probably  _ knock you out in about an hour or two, but that’s fine. You’re not going anywhere for a few days.” She smirks, tossing the syringe into the red garbage bin in the corner of the room. “Dr. Knight will be in here soon.” 

“Thanks.” 

“Want some TV while you wait?” 

Emma glances at the flat screen mounted in the corner of the hospital room and shrugs, nodding. “Sure.” 

“Lucky for you, we have a wide selection of static, infomercials, and the NBC channel. Pick your poison.” 

Emma can't help but smile at that. “NBC.” 

“Wise choice.” 

When Ruby is gone again, and the room is quiet except for whatever cop show is playing on low volume, Emma lets herself breathe. 

She lets herself take in the information she already has. She was attacked by a shark while surfing - how she got to the hospital is a big question mark, she’s pretty sure she can't feel half of her leg, and the other half feels like it’s been ripped the shreds. 

She’s been through bad shit in her life; like most foster kids, she’s endured the system’s way of ‘care’, starting from the abuse of other kids in group homes to the malnourishment from parents who just want the check that comes with a foster child. She’s lived on the streets after Mary Margaret and David died. She’s been in fights and gotten jumped. She knows pain. 

This is just another roadblock. That’s all. 

The next time the door opens, a petite blonde woman makes her way in, long white coat giving away her status. “Hello,” she says, a smile on her face. “I’m Dr. Knight, the surgeon who fixed up that leg.” 

“Emma Swan… and uh.. Thanks?” 

Dr. Knight smiles again and pulls up the visitor’s chair, sitting on the left side of Emma, “So. The story we have is that you were found washed up in a more secluded part of the bay.” 

“I live over there.” 

The doctor nods, “Lots of blood loss, torn muscles, as well as significant nerve and tissue damage. The shark that attacked you got you pretty good.” 

“Feels like it.” Emma sighs, fingers twitching over her thigh.

“We were able to repair a lot of the damage, but unfortunately, there will be places around your hip that will be permanently numb. No paralysis, but extensive nerve deterioration.” It all sounds insane. But that explains the fact that she can't feel anything in certain spots. 

“Will that keep me from surfing in the long run?” She asks instinctively, and Dr. Knight purses her lips. 

“I’m not sure. It’s not a top priority right now, seeing as we’re more concerned with getting you up and walking before we even consider letting you back into the ocean.” 

“ _ Letting  _ me?” 

A blonde brow arches and Emma can see the challenge in the other woman’s eyes, “Yes. Unless you’d like to be discharged against my word, and risk losing your  _ entire  _ leg due to negligence and refusal to take care of yourself.” 

“Okay, okay.” Emma relents, releasing a shaky breath. 

“I know this is tough, Emma,” Dr. Knight tells her, leaning forward, “It was a freak accident, and inconvenient, but this is what we have to work with now. I don't think it’s wise to talk about getting back in the water right now, it would be setting an unrealistic goal far too soon. Let’s focus on getting you to walk without falling for now, okay? We’ll take it day by day.” 

Emma nods solemnly, fingers picking at the hem of her hospital gown, “How long do I have to stay here?” 

Dr. Knight tilts her head, considering the question, and shrugs, “Nurse Lucas told me you don't have anyone to call, so I’m assuming you don't have someone to care for you outside of the hospital. So ideally, we’d like to keep you here until you’re able to get around. Probably until those stitches come out. That way we don't risk tearing them open while you’re alone.” 

“So.. timeframe?” 

“I think about 4-6 weeks.” 

Emma wants to cry. She wants to fucking  _ cry.  _ “I can't afford that. My  _ insurance  _ is going to drop me before I can even request anything for this.” 

Dr. Knight looks at her sympathetically, “Let me worry about finances for now, I will keep you updated on what is going to happen. I’m going to try my best to keep you as stress free as possible, okay? Our main concern is getting you functioning as a human again.” 

Emma tips her head back and nods silently, unsure of what to say. 

“They’re trying to catch the shark that did this to you.” The doctor says, and Emma shakes her head. 

“It’s an animal. It was probably hungry.” 

“I know. But it was too close to public beaches, people and children are still out in the water for the next few weeks, it’s a safety precaution.”

“So, when can I get out of this bed then?” She’s getting tired, the morphine kicking in and dragging her down into a sleepy pile of pain and bones. “I feel gross.” 

“We’ll try for a shower on thursday, for now you need to rest as much as you can, and we’d like those stitches to have a few more days to heal before you get up.” 

“Fine.” 

Dr. Knight stands up and tucks her hands into the pockets of her white coat, she looks around the room, and then at Emma’s slightly elevated leg, “The most important thing to remember right now is that you’re alive and you’re gonna be okay. It may take some time and work but you’re out of the surgical woods for now.” 

Emma can't help but take a deep breath at the other woman’s words, unable to hold the tears in now. She’s tired and even though the morphine is starting to kick in, she’s still in pain, and she just wants this to be over. She wants to be in the water right now, surfing the tube like she was on Saturday morning. She wants the thrill of diving into the water at the end of the wave. 

“I’m going to let you get some rest. Hit that button on the side of your bed if you need anything, okay?” 

“Okay. Thanks doc.” 

“Sleep well.” 

  
  
  
  


**…**

  
  
  


_ She’s being dragged under, swells of ocean water surround her, enveloping her as she gets pulled deeper into the abyss. The surface disappears, and she wants to scream, but seawater fills her lungs and belly. She can't breathe. She’s drowning.  _

_ It’s painful, feeling the pressure of the water on top of her, she feels like her eardrums are going to explode.  _

_ But nothing happens. She doesn’t die, she doesn't explode, she suffers.  _

_ She hits the bottom of the ocean, cold and darkness surrounding her. The light above her is dim, but she can see a shadow floating above her menacingly, threateningly.  _

_ She tries to push herself up off the sandy floor, but jaws clamp around her ankles, and then her hands, and there are sharp, razor teeth everywhere, and blood spreading out around her.  _

_ She tries to scream again but nothing comes out, and then she’s looking into the dead, black eyes of a shark, massive and grey and angry.  _

_ The water is red around her now, the shark is unmoving, and she just wants it to end.  _

_ Then the shark lunges for her, jaws spreading wide and darting toward her head.  _

She jolts awake, pain shooting through her leg as she sits up quickly, and she cries out. 

Emma’s alone in her dark hospital room, the door cracked open slightly to let light from the hallway outside in. She can hear the bustling of nurses and doctors and patients outside, and for once, it’s calming. It’s better than the complete and utter silence of that dream. 

She didn’t consider the psychological damage she’d retain from the attack before when she was asking the doctor about going back into the water, only taking the physical aspect into account. 

And  _ yes,  _ she so very badly wants to be in the water again; it’s her home, no matter where she is on any coast. But the underlying reminder that something dangerous lurks beneath the frothy waves sends a shiver down her spine, and her empty stomach curls and churns until she feels nauseous. 

And it hits Emma then and there, the overwhelming realization that this will probably be the hardest thing she’ll have to overcome in her life. And she’ll have to do it all alone. 

The light flickers on at that moment, snapping her out of her thoughts; she looks back to the doorway, letting out a shaky breath as Ruby stands there, a large bag in one hand. 

“Heard you yell - well, everyone out there did. You okay?” 

“Aren’t nurses supposed to be like, cutesy and caring and overly-sympathetic?” 

Ruby grins and sets the bag in the chair next to Emma’s bed, then shrugs, “Usually, but you don’t seem like the person who would like that. Am I off?” 

Emma can't help but smirk, “not entirely.” 

“Well, anyway. You’ve been asleep for a solid..-” she looks at her watch and nods once, “seventeen hours, so I’d say it’s time for you to eat something, drink some water, and we’ll change your gown.” 

“So what have I been eating and drinking then?” Emma asks, looking at the assortment of tubes and wires hooked up to various places in her body. 

“Lots of tube food. And that IV right there is to keep you hydrated while you’re sleepin’ like a baby.” 

Emma purses her lips, “I wouldn’t say ‘like a baby’.” 

“So nightmare, then?” 

She nods, sighing. 

“What’s in that bag?” 

Ruby looks over and she brightens, “Oh, someone from your work stopped by. Said he’d heard about what happened, so he brought over some stuff from your house.” 

“From my h- was he tallish? Curly brown hair and hazel eyes?” 

“Kinda dreamy, yeah.” 

Emma doesn’t know whether to be grateful or mad that Graham had entered her house without her permission, but before she can voice any of her thoughts, Ruby opens the bag and pulls out a few large shirts, some boxer shorts she’s collected from a few of her old boyfriends, and essential stuff you’d probably bring to a sleepover. 

“He also brought your phone. Told me to tell you to call him when you’re feeling up for visitors, and not to be too mad that he used the emergency key at the community center to get into your house.” Ruby smiles, stuffing the items back into the bag. 

“I don't have the energy to be mad,” Emma shrugs, and suddenly she’s itching to be in one of her shirts instead of this ratty hospital gown. “Could I wear my clothes instead of a gown?” 

“We can try to get you into the shorts. They look loose enough that they won't mess with your stitches but we’ll see. But you can for sure wear your shirt.” 

“Cool.” 

“You in any pain?” Ruby asks then, slipping back into nurse mode. “You most likely will be after we change you.” 

“Sorta, but I don’t really feel like sleeping anymore.” Emma says, and Ruby nods. 

“I can give you some non-drowsy pain medication. It’s not as strong as the other one but it should make things a little more bearable.” 

So Emma nods, and they begin the process. And she wants to gag when she sees just how many tubes she’s hooked up to. But she tries to keep a straight face when Ruby lifts her leg, searing pain shooting all throughout her body as the other woman tries to slip the boxers over her severely wrapped thigh. Emma has to use the strength of her other leg to lift her slightly, and she feels like she’s going to pass out just from exhaustion. She should’ve asked for the pain medication before they started this. 

By the time they’re done, Emma is weak and throbbing everywhere and she just wants water and her own bed. 

“It’ll get easier as time passes,” Ruby tells her, smiling softly. Emma doesn’t like the spark of pity she sees. “From what I could tell, there’s not much bleeding through your bandages, and that’s a great sign. We’ll know more about how it’s all healing when the doctor comes in to change your bandages out.” 

Emma smiles tightly, “great. Thank you.” 

When Ruby smiles at her again, she smiles back, and then a moment later, she’s alone again. 

It’s only been a handful of days, and she feels ready to crawl out of her skin and up the walls. 

This is her life now. Recovery. 

Awesome. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Don't forget to let me know what you think!

The first time she sees her leg - _ really _sees it, under all the bandages and gauze, she has to close her eyes. 

Except that doesn’t really help because she’s currently being sprayed down by Ruby in the shower. If she was modest about her body before, that’s definitely flown out the window now. 

“Seriously, Emma, it looks better than it did before. It’s legit healing.” Ruby tells her, using a damp cloth to clean around her wounds. It looks like a mangled mess of dips and slices sewn shut, and there’s what looks to be nearly a hand-sized chunk of her leg missing on the outside of her thigh, mended shut with stitches and stretched flesh. 

Jesus fucking Christ. 

“Thanks. Legit healing is what I was hoping for.” 

“You’re welcome,” the other woman grins, and Emma relaxes. Something about Ruby’s laid back, calm presence makes her feel better. If circumstances were different, Emma thinks they’d actually be pretty good friends. 

Emma washes her upper body while Ruby takes care of her legs and feet, and after a while of silence, the blonde grows antsy. “So. Tell me something about yourself.” 

Ruby looks surprised, but it’s quickly shoved aside as a smile grows on her lips again, “I used to surf before all this nursing business took over my entire existence.” 

Emma perks up, “Really?” 

“Yup. I was actually going to take lessons once I graduated nursing school and had regular hours, but I just got too busy. I wasn’t too bad before but I could always brush up.” 

“Well, if you ever reconsider classes, Graham is a great instructor. I can help you get a discount.” 

Ruby brightens and shuts the water off, “I’ll have to take you up on that. It’s the least you can do after I just gave you a shower.” 

“It’s your _ job _.” 

The brunette winks before grabbing a towel to dry Emma off with. “So, the Physical Therapist assigned to help you start using this leg again will be by in a few hours to talk to you.” 

“Okay, cool.” 

“I need to warn you about her, though. Don’t tell Dr. Knight I’m saying this, but Dr. Mills is a hardass.” 

“Really? Even if I’m a helpless shark attack victim who needs intense rehabilitation?” Emma smirks, and she finds that joking about her situation doesn’t do much to lessen the depressing truth that she really _ does _need intense rehabilitation. 

“You’re anything _ but _helpless, Swan. But seriously. I’ve kind of worked with her a few times now, and she’s not always prickly, but try to do as she says, otherwise she’ll eat you alive.” 

Bad choice of words. Ruby realizes it too, and her eyes widen as she stops drying. Her mouth opens as if she’s going to apologize, but Emma cuts her off, knowing she didn’t mean it. 

“Jaws beat her to it.. I can handle a doctor.” It’s said with a grin that holds all the false confidence she has in her body. 

  
  


**…**

  
  
  


When Ruby had told her about Dr. Mills, Emma’s brain immediately conjured up the image of a bitter woman, long in the tooth and grey in the hair. Someone who had been in the business for longer than she hadn’t. Maybe even wearing ugly, worn out scrubs.

What she _ didn’t _ imagine was a petite brunette who was barely 10 years older than her, gorgeous as _ hell _, wearing tight black slacks, a silk blouse under her white coat, and pointy heels. 

“Miss Swan,” the older woman greets, a politician’s smile on her dark red lips. “It’s unfortunate that we have to meet under these circumstances, but I hope to do my best to help you recover.” 

Emma smiles at her, but Dr. Mills’s neutral smile remains emotionless. “I’m hoping to get back in the water some day.” She says, knowing it’s a long shot anyway.

The doctor’s brow arches and she purses her lips, “Why don’t we focus on getting your foot and knee functioning fully before we worry about the ocean.” 

Emma sighs, “right.” 

Dr. Mills pulls out a small bottle of hand sanitizer, taking a moment to lather some on her hands. Emma nearly rolls her eyes, but manages to keep a straight face as the older woman pulls the sheet back to take a look at her leg. 

“I’m going to apply some pressure on certain areas where the nerves are most sensitive, please tell me if something I do gives you any discomfort or pain.” She tells Emma, then presses her fingertips to Emma’s foot. 

“Sensitivity or discomfort?” 

“Feels normal.” 

Dr. Mills nods, much too focused and serious for Emma. The blonde suddenly misses Ruby’s light attitude and jokes. “How about this?” 

And Emma winces as the older woman moves her foot around in a circle. She feels every muscle in her leg stretch tight and it’s like her stitches are being ripped open. “Discomfort!” She yelps, nudging the other woman’s hand away. 

“Hm.” Is all Dr. Mills has to say. 

After a beat, she adds, “nerve and ligament damage all the way down your leg. The shark must have clipped something higher.” 

“The darn thing,” Emma snarks, wanting nothing more than to tell the other woman to leave. 

“Certainly.” 

“When can I start walking?” 

“When this-“ she nudges Emma’s foot forward slightly, not enough to remotely cause any damage or harm, but the younger woman still winces harshly, “hurts significantly less. We’ll need at least your ankle and knee to be strong enough to hold you up. You’ll break something otherwise.” 

“And how do we do _ that?” _

“I will be by twice a day for stretches here in your hospital room.” 

Emma sighs, letting her head fall back into the bed. She’s never wanted to cry so many times in such a short period of time, but she guesses there’s a first for everything. 

“I know it sounds like it will take forever, but try to remember that everything in life is temporary. Especially the hard things.” 

She doesn’t expect those words from Dr. Mills, mostly because the whole time she’s shown little less than tolerance for Emma, and the younger woman’s first instinct is to bite. “I don’t need your pity or inspiring quotes.” 

Brown eyes darken then, with challenge and defiance and a lot of annoyance, “Dear, pity is for those who cannot change anything. I’m here because I _ can _.” 

“You sound full of yourself.” 

Dr. Mills pulls the hand sanitizer back out, squirts some into her palms and lathers up again, “Do you think I’d be here if I wasn’t able to help? To be honest, Miss Swan, your leg was one handful of nerve shortages away from being amputated, it’s nearly dead weight as of right now. I am who the hospital goes to when their resident Physical Therapist can’t do the job. I’m here because _ I _can.” 

And Emma should _ definitely _be offended. And hurt. And angry as fuck. But all the older woman’s words do is spark challenge inside of her.

“If that’s all?” Dr. Mills adds, smiling like she’s just given a speech about how much she loves babies and small animals and _ not _ completely demolished Emma's argument. 

“Sure.” 

“Great. I will see you tomorrow, Miss Swan. Bright and early.” 

Later, when Ruby is wrapping Emma’s leg up for the night, she smirks at the blonde and asks, “Jaws or Mills?” 

And she likes Ruby too much now to be offended. 

“I think Mills.” 

“_ Really?” _

“She’s kinda hot. When you look past the bitchy exterior.” 

Ruby bursts out laughing, unable to hide her amusement, “I know what you mean. I had a _ massive _crush on her when I first met her. Then she called me Nurse Airhead.” 

Emma’s eyes widen, “That’s so-“ 

“In her _ defense-“ _Ruby cuts in, “I had said something insensitive about a patient, not knowing they could hear me.” 

“Sensitivity doesn’t really seem to be the main priority here.” Emma smirks, and Ruby shrugs, bringing Emma’s blanket up over her legs. The cool cotton against her bare skin feels amazing, and she can feel how much the day has worn her down. 

“Like I said though. Regina Mills is probably one of the meanest women I’ve ever met, but she’s damn good at her job and she cares about her patients more than she lets on.” 

Emma mulls the words over in her mind. It’s hard to believe, but at the same time, she can see it. “She said something about her being the one they call when the resident PT can’t do the job. What’s that about?” 

“She’s usually based in San Fran, but Kathryn- Dr. Knight, told me that she has a home out here for bigger cases so that she doesn’t have to travel back and forth. I’m guessing she’s just bitter about having to move.” 

“Oh, sorry my shark attack inconvenienced her.” 

Ruby rolls her eyes, “She’s never turned a case down, and she has the absolute power to, so it’s not about you.” She tells Emma as she fiddles with the tubes connected to IV drips. 

“Thank _ god.” _Emma says, feigning relief. “Kinda makes me want to push her buttons.” 

“Those buttons have booby traps. Seriously. You’ll lose a finger or get a tranq dart in the ass.” 

Emma can’t help the tired chuckle that bubbles out of her. “I’m tired as hell.” 

“You were out of bed for the first time in like a week. I’ll let you get some rest. The painkiller should kick in. It’s diluted since you’re in recovery now but it’ll still knock you out.” 

“Awesome.” 

“Hit the button if you need anything.” 

Emma nods, already feeling her eyes droop with exhaustion. 

She doesn’t know if she’s excited or nervous about seeing Dr. Mills in the morning. But for now, she ignores every other feeling except sleepiness. 

  
  


**…**

  
  


Dr. Mills is even grumpier in the morning. 

Emma occasionally gets a faint whiff of coffee as the older woman moves, and she smirks. Of course she’s addicted to coffee. 

“So,” Emma starts, and she’s immediately cut off. 

“Please consider your words before you start small talk.” Dr. Mills mutters, not even taking a moment to look up from whatever dumb paperwork she’s doing. 

“We’re going to be spending a _ lot _of time together,” Emma reasons, wiggling her toes when the doctor moves to touch them. “I think we should break the ice a little.” 

“I can assure you, I will be just fine if we keep the ice perfectly intact.” 

Emma winces when Dr. Mills begins stretching her foot slowly, but she holds her pain in. She finds it easier to endure when she can look at the way the older woman’s brows furrow in concentration, lips press together, and dark hair brushes against her sharp jawline. “Funny,” she says, voice tight. “What’s your full name?” Emma knows it, because Ruby had said it last night, but she really just wants to grate the doctor’s nerves as much as she can. It’s the least she can do to get back at her for the shitty attitude yesterday. 

“Doctor Mills.” 

_ “Funny. _If I were at least 20 years younger I’d believe you. My full name is Emma Surfer Swan.” 

Brown eyes snap up and fingers pause, and _ yes, _she takes the bait. “You’re joking.” 

“Nope. My last foster parents helped me legally name myself Emma Surfer Swan when I hit 16. I’d called myself that since I was little and they thought I should make it official.” It was probably the best birthday gift she’d ever received.

And she _ may _be going blind, because she sees the beginning of a smile tug at her plump maroon lips. 

But as quickly as it appeared, it’s gone and the brunette is clearing her throat. “While that is touching, Miss Swan, I’d rather keep things as professional as possible.” 

“Humor me.” 

But Dr. Mills just presses her fingers against the ball of Emma’s foot and instructs her to push as much as she can before it starts to hurt. She can only go about three inches before the burning sensation of her stitches being tugged sets in, and she sighs. 

“Don’t worry, dear. Your wounds are already mostly closed, so as soon as Kathryn pulls them out in about a week or so, we should be able to start working more of your muscles.” 

Emma groans, “Why can’t I just _ walk?” _It’s a rhetorical question, but the doctor arches an eyebrow and tilts her head. 

“You could _ try, _but the nerve and tissue damage you endured would probably cause your muscles to overwork after not walking for almost a week, and you’ll most likely fall to the ground. You’ve already started healing, of course, so the most that would happen is you stunt the healing process and will most likely be left crippled for longer than I’m sure anyone here wants.” 

Emma stares at her blankly, then bursts out laughing, because _ why not? _She’s stuck here, she doesn’t have anything to do or anywhere to go, she has absolutely no control over her own body at the moment, so why the fuck can’t she laugh about it? 

Dr. Mills just smiles then, smug and facetious and thoroughly unamused. “Can we please get on with this?” 

“Do you have other patients, or something?” 

“Or something.” Dr. Mills answers, and it’s clipped and tells Emma that no further questions are allowed. She relents this time, doing as the older woman says. They fall into an easy routine of Mills telling her what to do, she does it, Mills writes it down when Emma winces. 

Emma is shocked to find that when they’re done, she can move her ankle just a bit easier than before. It may just be temporary, loose from the stretching, but she feels a flicker of hope at the progress. 

“I’ll be back at four thirty.” Dr. Mills tells her, and she gathers her clipboard. “In about two or so weeks. We can start getting you over to the Physical Therapy room. But that depends on how your body responds to my exercises.” 

“So you’re really not going to tell me your full name?” Emma asks, and Dr. Mills scoffs and rolls her eyes. 

“Have a nice day, Miss Swan.” She answers, and Emma can’t help but bite back a grin as the older woman click-clacks out of her room. 

Ruby slinks inside moments later, followed by Dr. Knight, and both of them look a little surprised. 

“What?” Emma asks. 

“_ Swear _ we just saw Dr. Mills smile.” Ruby tells her, then adds, “well, she was smiling and then asked me what the hell I’m staring at when she caught me looking.” 

“You’re just being dramatic, Ruby.” Dr. Knight says, but her expression tells both women that she agrees with Ruby. 

Emma swallows down the pride she feels. Dr. Mills could’ve been smiling about anything. It’s stupid to even consider she was the reason behind it. 

She doesn’t know how, or even why, but her mood about this entire thing has shifted a bit. Whether it’s because she’s making a friend out of Ruby, or it’s because she has Dr. Mills to spark challenge, annoyance - anything _ but _every negative feeling she’d had for the entire week she’d been cooped up in her hospital room - but she feels like they’re all reasons to stay as positive as she can be.

She just hopes it’s enough to get her through this. 


	3. Chapter 3

Emma bounces her right leg as Ruby pushes her through the hospital, feeling caged in and claustrophobic. She hasn’t been outside since the day of her attack and  _ how  _ she lasted this long without fresh air is fucking beyond her. 

“You okay?” Ruby asks, leaning down to peer over Emma’s shoulder, “your leg’s kinda going crazy.” 

“ _ I’m  _ going crazy. I haven't gone this long without being in the water in.. I don't know..  _ Years? _ If ever?” She feels like she’s about to crawl out of her own skin and it’s frustrating. 

“We’ve got a therapy pool you can swim in when your stitches come out next week,” Ruby offers, and Emma sighs. She’s grateful that the brunette is trying to help, but a pool isn’t quite the same as being in the honest-to-god ocean. She’s really in no position to be picky though, so she turns her head to give Ruby a polite nod. 

“Thanks.” 

“Of course, Dr. Mills will probably make you do it regardless, especially if you’re considering getting back into the water.” 

That sends something akin to whatever emotion an eye roll comes with shooting through her. “Of course.” 

“She might just join you if you’re  _ lucky,”  _ Ruby teases, hitting the button to open the doors to the outside patio. 

Emma scoffs, but a wave of cool August air hits her and she’s too distracted by the scent of the ocean and the flowers in the patio to care about Ruby poking fun at her. She feels the pinpricks of tears coming back and she doesn’t hold back this time. Her eyes become too blurry and she squeezes her fists. 

“You need some space?” Ruby asks from beside her and she nods, not chancing a look at the other woman. 

She’s never been this fragile in front of a person before, not even during her days in the system. She’s always been the strong one, ready to pick herself back up and move on. But this time - this time it feels like there’s no picking yourself up. How can you if you can’t even walk to move forward in life? 

She takes a deep breath, and she decides that she’s not going another day without coming out here, it’ll be a priority to get some sun every day, at least to save her from going insane. 

Her body feels sore, and she longs to get up and stretch her unused muscles, but the weight of her injury hangs on her. 

Like the shark is still dragging her down into the suffocating, paralyzing depths of the ocean.

She feels a hand on her shoulder and she sighs, “Ruby, please. I’m fine, I just need a minute.” When she turns her head, she’s surprised to see not Ruby, but Dr. Mills standing there with her eyebrows raised. “Oh. I thought you were Ruby.” 

“I’m afraid not.” 

“What’re you doing here?” 

“Polite as ever, I see.” Dr. Mills smirks, she pulls one of the many chairs over to where Emma is and she sits down across from her, crossing a leg over the other. She looks smaller without her white coat, somehow a little more human.

“Sorry. Just having a rough day.” 

Dr. Mills nods and Emma turns her head back to the garden just outside of the sitting area. “You’ve got some color back in your cheeks.” 

Emma raises an eyebrow, “I’ve been out here for like, ten minutes.” 

“And it’s made a world of difference.” 

“Is that your way of telling me I looked like shit before?” 

The doctor cracks a little smile, almost unnoticeable, and shakes her head, “No, dear. I’d never use such a crass word.” 

“Of course.” Emma wipes the remnants of tears from under her eyes with the back of her hand, “What time is it?” 

Dr. Mills looks at her watch, “nearly three.” 

“Do you have more patients here?” Emma asks, because their second session of the day doesn’t happen until around four thirty or five. But after the words leave her mouth, she remembers the older woman saying she’d come out here specifically to treat her. 

“Just you.” 

“So why are you here so early?” 

Emma sees something flash behind her dark eyes, but she receives no response for quite a while, only a curious brown gaze and purses lips. 

Finally, the older woman answers, “Kathryn and I usually have lunch together when I’m in town. I met her here since she had a surgery that ran late. I figured I’d stay until your physical therapy session instead of going all the way home and then coming back. 

“What, do you live far?” 

“About ten minutes from here.” 

“Then-“ 

“I can see you’re not up for company, Miss Swan, so I will see you in a few hours.” Dr. Mills cuts in, and Emma feels guilty for pushing so hard. Maybe she was lonely and wanted company too and Emma had made her feel like her presence was bothersome. 

She sighs as Mills puts the chair back and grabs her purse, giving her a curt nod before moving past her. 

She thinks she’s alone seconds later, but she hears Mills’s deep voice behind her suddenly, and she cranes her neck. She’s barely moving the chair around as Mills says, “My name is Regina Coraline Mills.” 

She presses her lips together, and before she can say anything, Dr. Mills clicks away in her uncomfortably high heels. 

  
  
  


**….**

  
  
  


The week passes by slowly for Emma, consisting of strained Physical Therapy sessions, lots of rest, and antsy afternoons of feeling trapped. 

The only upside to the beginning of the current week is that she’ll be finding out if her wounds have healed enough to get her stitches removed. Her untrained eyes tell her that she’s more than ready, but she tries to not get her hopes up. Dr. Knight comes by late in the morning, first doing another round tests to see if Emma’s nerves and whatever the hell else that had been damaged have had any changes since she’s started working with Mills. 

It’s not any significantly large progress, but it’s something that makes the doctor smile encouragingly and pat Emma’s shoulder (like she’s some teenager who needs comfort). Emma supposes it’s good news though; some progress is better than  _ no  _ progress. Emma’s leg has healed externally though, and Emma can’t help the relieved sigh as Dr. Knight sends Ruby in with a suture removal kit. 

The nurse winks and rattles the tools together teasingly, and Emma doesn’t even try to hide her grin.

“These healed pretty quickly, Swan. Usually wounds as deep as yours take about four weeks to completely heal.” 

Emma shrugs, pulling her shorts up to her hips, “What can I say? Along with surfing and knowing when people lie, healing is one of my super power skills.” 

“Okay, casanova.” 

Ruby spreads iodine around the area to clean, and then a cold numbing agent before she sets to work on her upper thigh. The wound goes down all the way to above her knee, and Emma finds it hard to really look at it most of the time. She has to admit though, the way it looks now versus the way it looked when she first saw it three weeks ago is significantly better. It sparks just a little bit of hope inside her.

“There,” Ruby smiles, wiping the remnants of the iodine off of Emma’s skin. “So you’re not in any pain still?” 

“Not unless I put pressure on any part of my leg. Like, when I do my exercises with Dr. Mills, I’m usually sore after, but before then, if I’m not really doing much or trying to use my leg, it doesn’t hurt.” 

Ruby grins, and in turn, that makes Emma grin. “You’re gonna be out of here in no time.” 

“I don’t know about that one. I can’t even walk yet.” 

“Yeah, but once your good leg is stronger you’ll be able to walk with crutches.” 

Emma smiles at that, leaning back in the bed and letting out a relieved sigh.

Ruby leaves then, letting Emma know that another nurse will bring her lunch by in a few minutes. 

She can’t help but touch her scars, feeling where nerves cut out and make her flesh numb and where feeling begins again. It’s weird, she didn’t know it was even possible to only have permanent numbness in small areas like this.

The nurse brings her food in, setting the tray up for Emma and leaving without saying much. Emma’s come to realize that not every nurse is as bubbly and optimistic as Ruby is. 

Later, after she eats, she can’t help but try and fix her hair and clothes (which are both limp and lifeless due to the fact that Emma is mostly bed ridden) for when Dr. Mills—  _ Regina _ — comes in. The older woman usually has something snarky to say about her appearance, and usually Emma would find that rude and a bit hurtful, she thinks it’s mostly to keep banter light and away from any personal topics. 

Which never seems to work out anyway, because Regina always leaves  _ tense _ . 

“You’re looking chipper, Miss Swan.” Mills says as she breezes into the hospital room. The curtains are open this time, letting sun into the usually dull space. 

“I got my stitches out.” 

Regina sets her bag down on the visitor chair and makes her way to the left side of the bed. Emma takes the moment to look at her as the doctor pokes and prods at her scars. “Very nice.” 

Emma ignores the tingles as she feels Regina’s bare fingers touch her skin. 

“What are we doing today?” 

The doctor pushes her hands into her white coat pockets and purses her lips together, “your sutures are out, so I believe we can make our way over to the PT room. We’ll probably spend a bit more time in there today. The goal is to get you walking with crutches within the next few weeks.” 

Emma nods enthusiastically, “I’m ready.” 

“I can tell.” Mills tilts her head, “I want you to know though, that despite this good news, it won’t be easy.” 

“I know.” 

“You won’t walk right away. Even though your right leg is fine, the muscles haven’t been used in weeks and you’ll get cramps, you’ll get tired. Probably will have trouble holding yourself up.” 

“I know.” Emma nods once again, and she feels more determined than ever. 

“I’ll have Nurse Lucas bring a wheelchair in and we’ll go to the PT room.” 

Emma’s buzzing as they all make their way through the hospital, the sound of phones ringing and people talking and Regina’s heels clicking against the tiled floors filling her head. She wants to hop out of the wheelchair and run,  _ god,  _ she misses going on runs. 

Her right leg bounces out of habit, and she feels the muscles twitching as she moves. 

“We’ll start with some stretches on that table over there,” Mills says as they enter the room. She motions to a table that looks like the ones in exam rooms at neighborhood clinics. “Then we’ll see how you do holding yourself up.” 

She stops in front of Emma, arms crossed, and Ruby steps back, “You will not, under any circumstances, try and do anything on your own.” Her voice is deep and stern and Emma nods wordlessly, “I will not have you pull a muscle or blow out a nerve because you think you’re ready for more than you actually are.” 

“Got it, Doc.” 

“Good.” She nods, then looks at Ruby, “that will be all, Miss Lucas.” 

“I’ll be back to get you when you’re done, Emma.” 

“Cool.” 

Soon, they’re alone, like every other session. Except this time, the tension that usually latches onto Regina is  _ already  _ dancing around the room. The older woman still looks stern with her arms crossed and hard set face. 

“Are you okay?” Emma asks, and Mills snaps out of whatever she had been stuck in.

“Fine, dear. Let’s get you up on that table.” 

It takes too much effort to do, and by the time Emma is laying back on the stiff padding, she’s out of breath. Her leg is already starting to feel sore, and her determination is waning. She looks at Regina, who is rolling up her sleeves, and sighs. “Can you tell me something about yourself?” Emma asks, and the woman catches the older woman off guard. 

She expects something snarky in return, or maybe a  _ This isn’t time for chit-chat _ , but instead, Regina purses her lips as she begins stretching Emma’s foot first, “I originally went to medical school to be an Orthopedic surgeon, I got my degree and medical license, but an opening at San Francisco’s Mercy hospital for a Physical Therapist fell into my lap.” 

Emma winces as Regina presses hard on on her calf, but she ignores it, “So can you still do surgeries?” 

She nods, “I’m still a surgeon, but I find helping people recover from surgeries or injuries to be more my calling.” 

“You’re pretty good at it.” 

“I know.” There’s amusement in her tone, possibly for the first time ever, and Emma can’t help but  _ look  _ at her. 

“How old are you, anyway?” She blurts, then sits up on her elbows, “I mean, you talk as if you’ve been in this line of work for fifty years.” 

Regina scoffs, crossing her arms, “Didn’t you know it’s rude to ask a woman her age?” 

“C’ _ mon.  _ It’s not like I’ll judge you if you’re super old. I’ll tell you my age.” 

“I know your age.” 

“How?” 

“I have your file, Miss Swan. 28 years old, born October 22th.” 

“Okay. So, let’s even the playing field.” 

Dr. Mills pushes Emma’s shoulder, causing her to fall back on the table with a huff. There’s amusement in her eyes as she looks at the blonde, “How old do you  _ think  _ I am?” 

“Oh,  _ no no no.  _ I’m not answering that.” 

Regina chuckles softly, “Let me see how far you can stretch your right leg. Pull it toward your torso... _ slowly _ .” 

Emma does, surprised to actually  _ feel _ the muscles in her thigh stretching. She stops when it starts to get painful, about five inches from touching her chest. 

“Better than I thought,” Dr. Mills notes, writing the progress down on her clipboard, “Slowly bring your leg back down.” 

“35.” Emma says as she follows directions.

Regina arches an eyebrow, but doesn’t answer.

“Do the stretch again.” She says instead, this time holding Emma’s knee and pushing ever so slightly. 

“36?” 

“Now I want you to bring your foot up as high as you can.” 

Emma does it, wincing in pain as her leg stretches even more. She’d be embarrassed at the fact that she’s in boxer shorts and fuzzy socks, her legs aren’t exactly hairless at the moment, and she’s pretty sure Regina can see up her shorts, but as always, the older woman remains professional as ever, eyes locked solely on her face or legs. 

“C’mon, you can’t be older than 36?” 

“ _ Emma,”  _ Dr. Mills sighs, and Emma has to bite her lip. She’s never heard the doctor call her by her first name. “Why does my age matter?” 

“Talking helps distract me from the fact that I’m a  _ very _ active person and I haven’t been able to even go on a  _ walk _ in almost a month.” Emma tells her, and Regina’s eyes widen slightly. She hadn’t meant to snap like that. “Sorry..” 

“I turned 39 three months ago.” 

“Happy late birthday. You don’t look 39.” 

“Thank you.” She smiles slightly, eyes rolling in good nature before she snaps back into work mode, “let’s see how well you can stand on your right foot alone.” 

  
  
  


**…**

  
  
  


Later that evening, there’s a knock on the door to her rooms and she looks up to see Graham. 

“You never called,” He grins, and Emma sits up. 

“You broke into my house.” 

He shrugs and points to her shirt, one or the few he’d grabbed, “You’re using what I brought, a thank you might be nice.” 

She smiles then, adjusting so that she can talk to him without feeling awkward for laying down. “Thanks, I guess.” 

“So, how’s the leg?” 

“Getting better, slowly. I stood up for a whole two minutes before I got tired today.” 

“Better than nothing.” He smirks, sitting down in the chair next to her bed, “so uh, they found the shark. Only one in the area for miles.” 

She looks at the blankets covering her leg and purses her lips, “Really?” 

“Great white. It was a teenager.” 

“What did they do?” 

He looks at her with a sad expression. 

Being attacked by a shark isn’t ideal or in any way convenient, but the fact that it’s just an animal and it didn’t know better, was going off basic instinct, makes her mourn. 

“Had to make it safe for other surfers and swimmers.” Is all Graham says to her, and she nods. 

“So, since you invaded my privacy once already-“ 

“I’ll get you a few more things.” He grins, “text me a list and I’ll bring it all by tomorrow.” 

“Thanks. How’s everything holding up without me?” 

“Everyone misses you, of course. Mulan took your classes for now, so everything’s okay at the moment. You know when you’ll be out of here?” 

Emma shrugs and blows a breath out, “another few weeks at least.” 

“Shit.” 

“Time’s going by pretty fast though. As soon as I can get around on my own I’ll go home. Therapy like 5 times a week though until I’m cleared for work.” 

“Well, everything waiting for you to return. They uh.. they found your board washed up a couple hundred yards away from where they found you. Want me to throw it out?” 

Emma remembers her board. Her favorite one - teal with brown stripes and a nice grip pad so she can stay steady while she rides her waves. She also remembers the chunk taken out of it as she was being dragged under. She wants to say chuck it. She doesn’t want that kind of reminder, but instead she finds herself shaking her head, “No, I wanna keep it.” 

Graham widens his eyes and he scratches his neck, “You sure?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Alright. I’ll take it to your place when I go to get your things.” 

“Thanks Graham. And thanks for stopping by.” 

“No problem, Em. I’ll let you get some rest now, but don’t think I won’t be back.” He tells her, standing up and shoving his hands into his pockets. 

She grins, “‘Course you will, I need my things.” 

He grins back at her, nodding once before turning toward the door. He passing Ruby on his way out, and the brunette smiles politely at him, sending Emma a wink. 

“He gets cuter and cuter.” She tells the blonde, setting a cup of pills and a glass of water down onto the side table. “Have you two…” 

“Nope. He’s not my type.” Emma says immediately, throwing the pills back. 

“What  _ is  _ your type?” 

Emma tries and  _ fails  _ not to think about dark brown hair, brown eyes, olive skin. It could be anyone, she reasons, but more images conjure in her brain; clicky heels, tight pantsuits and skirts, red lips. 

Her type definitely  _ is _ a bit specific. 

“Just not him. He’s like a brother.” 

Ruby arches a brow as if she’d heard every last thought in her brain. She hides her blush behind her glass of water, ignoring Ruby’s obnoxious grin.

So, her type might be Regina Mills, but so what? She doesn’t exactly have a chance with her anyway, seeing as it’s probably unethical for a Doctor to date their patient. And besides.. there’s nothing wrong with having a teeny tiny crush on a woman who's seen you _ only  _ at your worst, who is helping you recover from a shark attack, and who also happens to be about 11 years older than you. It’s probably normal, and will go away soon anyway. 

That’s what she tells herself, at least. 


	4. Chapter 4

The next week passes by slowly again, which seems to be a recurring thing here in Half Moon Bay’s residential hospital. 

She’s currently in the PT room, sans Ruby and Dr. Mills. She’d slid out of her wheelchair slowly, now able to do some basic movements, and she’s on the floor. She knows the stretches Regina would normally have her do by now, and there’s no reason why she can’t get a bit of a headstart on loosening her muscles before whatever intense, strenuous activity Regina has planned for her. 

She’s looking at her leg when she hears a noise, and then-

“So, what happened to you?” 

Emma’s head snaps up in surprise, and she takes in the sight of a little boy sitting in a wheelchair at the other end of the room, right next to the door to Regina’s office. He’s rolling around like he’s bored and has absolutely nowhere to be and nothing to do, which tells Emma that he’s apparently not lost, because he looks pretty comfortable where he’s sitting. “Huh?” 

“Your leg. What happened?” 

“Oh. Shark attack. Where the hell did you come from?” 

His hazel eyes widen, then narrow, “are you just saying that? ‘Cuz people say that to make their injuries sound cooler instead of something lame.” 

Emma can’t help herself, she laughs at the filterless kid whose facial expressions are extremely familiar. She shrugs and wiggles her toes from her position on the floor. “I wish I was making it up. No, I’m a surfer and one morning about a month ago, I took a dive after a sick wave, and I couldn’t find my board because the strap had snapped, so I started to paddle back, but then I felt something bite into my leg and drag me under. It was a teenager great white.” She’s gotten used to telling people the story that it sounds exactly like that - a  _ story _ . 

He looks thoroughly amazed, and for once, she doesn’t see pity on someone’s face when she talks about her attack. “Did they find a shark tooth in your leg to keep around your neck?” 

“You watch too many movies, kid.” 

He shrugs and rolls his eyes, but the smile never leaves his face. 

She purses her lips, “I have my bodysuit though. It’s shredded. And my board, turns out the shark took a bite out of it too.” 

“So you have a surfboard with a  _ shark bite  _ in it?” 

“Yup.” 

“Cool! Can I see it?” 

“Maybe someda-“ 

The door to the PT room opens and both Emma and Henry look over to see Dr. Mills strutting in. She relaxes immediately upon seeing the boy, and Emma’s about to ask her if she knows him when the older woman walks right up to him. 

“Henry Daniel Mills, I went to the nurses station where you were  _ supposed  _ to be waiting for me. You need to follow instructions, okay?” 

“Okay, mom.” He sinks back into the wheel chair he’d been playing in, “but I was with Emma, and she’s a shark attack survivor. Did you know that?” The excitement on his face is enough to soften Regina’s features considerably, and if Emma wasn’t completely secretly into seeing Regina looking soft, she’d be offended at the boy’s joy over her injury.

Regina looks at Emma and raises an eyebrow before turning back to Henry, “Yes, dear, she’s one of my patients. Now, go into my office and do your homework, please.” 

He rolls his eyes and groans, but slides out of the chair. “Don’t forget about showing me your surfboard, okay Emma?” 

“You bet, kid.” Emma winks at him, then she turns and looks up at the older woman. And she pretends to not notice that she can kind of see up her skirt. “Homework? Did he start school already?” 

“My son is homeschooled.” And there’s something kind of sexy in the fact that Regina is a mother. She can picture the uptight woman going to birthday parties and making food and watching kid movies. Sexy and  _ cute.  _ Emma doesn’t voice that thought though - she values her life.

“Oh. That’s pretty cool.” 

“Hm.” The doctor hums, setting her purse and jacket down in the wheelchair that Henry had been sitting in. “Why are you on the floor, Miss Swan?” 

“Thought I’d get a head start on some stretches.” 

There’s irritation on Regina’s face, and she crosses her arms in front of her, “I specifically remember telling you not to try and do anything on your own.” 

Emma sighs and flops down onto the floor completely, “You said anything I think I can do but really can't.. I  _ know  _ I can do the stretches you have me do every day.” 

“I’d like you to follow directions for once,” Mills says in response, and Emma can tell the older woman isn't in a very good mood. This should be warning enough to shut up and follow directions, but she’s headstrong - always has been - and she can't help but push some more. 

“You’re really going to get pissy over a few stretches?” 

“Who has the degree here? What is the point if you're going to deliberately disobey me?” 

“You’re not my  _ mom,  _ Regina, I-” 

Dark eyes flash, and the older woman steps back, an incredulous look on her face, “When have I ever given you permission to use my first name?” 

“It slipped, It’s not like I-” 

“I am not your mother, Miss Swan, you’re right. But make no mistake, I will not stand here and let you undermine me just because you think you know better. And you will not speak to me as if you are anything more to me than a patient.” 

Emma stares at her for a moment, eyes wide and mouth parted in shock. She watches as the older woman’s chest rises and sinks rapidly, eyes wild and angry, lips pursed. She looks beautiful, and Emma almost wants to stand up and hug her, because now she knows that this isn’t really about her not following some stupid instruction. It’s something that’s really affecting her. So much so that it’s carried out into her work life, which, Emma is  _ sure,  _ is a rare occurrence. 

“Okay,” she mutters, not breaking contact with Regina, “I’m sorry.” 

Shock quickly takes over the anger on Regina’s features, and they’re just staring at each other now. 

“Right..” Regina rasps, lips parting and closing as if she doesn’t know what to say. She takes a moment to collect herself before turning around, “Can you get yourself up, or do you need my help?” 

“I can do it.” 

“Okay. I’ll be right back.” Emma doesn’t even have time to blink before Regina is storming off into her office, closing the door behind her. Emma watches through the window as the older woman touches Henry’s cheek, and then she quickly looks away. Too intimate for her, not for her to see. 

She’s glad she’d done all of those arm and upper body workouts all the time, because pulling herself up with the use of one barely good leg proves to be a hard task. She finds herself standing on both flat feet, leaning against the examine table to catch her breath. It feels good to be five foot seven again. 

Her heart is still racing from the argument with Regina, though, and she can feel that stress building up in her entire body. Usually, now would be the time she takes her energy and anger out on a wave or two. 

It feels like a billion minutes before she hears the snick of the door opening, and Regina comes back out, looking composed and professional and so very guarded. 

Dr. Mills’s eyes graze over Emma, and the blonde realizes that she has never really  _ stood  _ next to Regina, she never realized that she’s a few inches taller than Regina, and she feels a new sort of confidence flush through her.

Regina regards her with professional eyes, “how does your leg feel? As you’re standing right now.” 

“Like.. I don't know, I’m standing on a stilt? I can kinda feel the muscles working in some parts, but nothing in others.” 

“Mm. That’s the nerve damage.” 

“Awesome.” Emma smirks, hoping it’ll elicit  _ some _ form of a reaction out of the older woman. No avail.

Regina does her pre-touching ritual, consisting of the hand sanitizer and the quick air dry before bending down slightly to press and feel the muscles in Emma’s leg. “I feel spasms,” she murmurs, looking up at the blonde. Her fingers graze over a certain spot, and she holds her hand there, “can you feel this? Your muscle is clenching and unclenching.” 

“Nope.” Emma clears her throat, trying not to overthink about the fact that Regina is touching her so  _ softly.  _ The older woman’s frown tells Emma that it’s not a good thing. “Is that bad?” 

“Well, seeing as the usual default setting for a human is to feel things, I’d have to say it’s certainly not  _ good _ .” Emma rolls her eyes at the doctor’s snark, and Regina continues her analysis, “I’m just worried that you’ll pull something and not be able to feel it.” 

“How do we prevent that?” 

“More exercises. I think you’re ready for some more intense activities on your injured leg.” 

“So can I-” 

“Don’t try and walk yet.” 

Emma lifts herself up onto the table, scooting back so that her legs aren't completely dangling, and she groans, “C’mon, Dr. Mills, I need to  _ walk.  _ I was standing just fine!”

“Quit whining. My son has better manners than you.” 

“Your son can  _ walk.”  _

Regina surprises them both then, placing a warm hand on Emma’s injured knee. Brown eyes dart down to her hand, but she doesn’t move it just yet. “Listen to me. I hate that I have to keep reminding you, but if you push yourself too hard, you’ll re-injure yourself, and we’ll essentially be back to square one.” 

Emma wants to put her hand over the other woman’s so, so badly, but she refrains, instead nodding solemnly. “I know, I know. I just..” 

“I know.” 

Emma moves then, unsure of why or where she has acquired this bout of confidence, letting her hand graze over a dainty wrist, touching the soft skin there and feeling electricity shoot up her fingertips. She’s sure she hears a faint intake of breath, but all too soon the moment is over. Regina is pulling away and tucking dark hair behind her ear.

Emma wants to follow her, pull her in close, but the moment is shattered, and doing so would have the same ending that walking prematurely would; damage. 

  
  
  


**…**

  
  
  


The session ends quickly, and this time, Emma is relieved for a different reason than usual. The tension is different now, something stirring beneath the surface that neither one of them dare to touch. 

Henry comes out just as Emma is settling back into her wheelchair, and he bounds right up to her despite his mother’s protests, “How do I know you’re  _ really  _ going to show me your surfboard?” 

Emma grins at him, shrugging, “I guess you’ll have to trust me.” 

He shakes his head, defiance just like his mother, “I’ll need something more than that.” He talks to her like she owes him something, and it’s kind of cute. Mostly because he can't be older than 11, but mostly because he’s just a cute kid. Cute like his scary mom. 

“How about… how about on my first physical therapy session with your mom  _ after  _ I get discharged from this place, I bring my board from home. You can let her know that I’ll be bringing it by for you so that she can take you to work with her again.” Emma glances at the office door, and she’s not surprised to see Regina standing there, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed. 

Henry grins, turning around before bouncing over to his mother, “Mom did you hear her? Please can I come with you when she brings her surfboard? It has a shark bite in it!” 

Emma can see the war on Regina’s face, but she knows, somehow, that the woman can't say no to him. And she’s proven right a few seconds later when the older woman nods slightly with a smile on her face. And the smile only grows when he hugs her tightly. 

Henry goes back into her office as Regina makes her way over to the Physical Therapy room entrance, propping the door open. 

Emma can't help but say softly, “You’re a really good mom. From what I can see.” She’s expecting the usual “I know” that Regina sends her way after a compliment, she expects the cocky smile and shiny glint. 

But instead, she’s faced with an unsure, almost melancholy smile, maybe a bit of shock in her eyes, and a soft, “I hope so.”

The older woman clears her throat, crossing her arms over her chest, which Emma can now tell is a way of protecting herself. 

It’s so organic and natural too, and that tells Emma that Regina has had to protect herself all her life. 

“You are. Trust me.” Emma tells her, confident in her word. Regina has no reason to actually trust her on something as serious as this, but really, Emma knows it in her bones that Regina is the kind of woman who gives her all in everything she does. 

Dr. Mills stares at her for a moment, unwavering brown eyes locking with green ones. After many long moments, Mills seems to relax, “Thank you.” 

Emma can’t help but grin at her, and she’s  _ still  _ grinning even as Ruby comes back to take her to get dinner in the cafeteria. 

  
  
  


**…**

  
  
  


Emma rolls her ankle as she relaxes in the cool autumn breeze, feeling the warmth of the sun on her cheeks and arms and legs. She’s happy to see that she’s back to her normal color, a slight tan from being outside her whole life. Her blonde curls have decided to come back in full force, the sun’s rays highlighting her hair. 

She spends most of her days out here, having Ruby bring the walker with her so she can stretch her legs out as she spends time in the garden. 

It’s still painful when she puts even half her weight on her leg but it’s progress, and she’s getting stronger every day thanks to Dr. Mills. Soon she’ll be able to get around on her own, and more importantly, she’ll get to  _ go home.  _ She misses her bed and her car, her favorite cafe across the street, her board workshop behind her house. 

She’s too concentrated on walking and too lost in her thoughts to realize that she’s no longer alone in the garden, and she jumps when she hears, 

“What have I told you about being alone while walking?” 

She looks over her shoulder and rolls her eyes, seeing an annoyed Regina Mills standing with her arms crossed. 

“I’m not alone. You’re standing right there.” 

“Emma.” 

Emma turns around slowly, feeling older than she is with the walker and her slow pace, “I’m going home soon, I’ve gotta learn to be able to get around on my own.” 

“And while you’re  _ here,  _ you need to have someone close in case you fall.” The doctor says sternly, eyes hard. Emma knows that she won’t win this argument, and her shoulders sag. 

“Fine. Sorry.” She mutters, bending her left knee slightly to take pressure off of it. “What are you doing here anyway?” 

The older woman arches an eyebrow, looking over to the hospital doors, “Well, you weren’t in your room  _ or  _ the therapy room, I figured you’d be here. It’s time for our afternoon session.” 

“Already?” 

“It’s nearly five PM.” 

“Why didn’t Ruby come and get me?” Emma asks, making her way back to her wheelchair, “I swear it was barely three when she brought me out here.” 

“You look a little sunburnt.” Regina blurts, “Next time, bring sunscreen if you intend to spend hours in the sun.” 

Emma blushes, which she figures is hidden from the redness on her cheeks, “Right.” The last time someone had cared enough about her to mention using sunscreen was years ago, and the notion that Regina, the uptight, no-nonsense woman cared made Emma’s insides flutter like never before. “I’ll ask Graham to bring some next time he visit.” 

Dr. Mills hums, crossing her arms, and if Emma isn’t mistaken, she sees a hint of..  _ something.. _ lingering underneath the noncommittal shrug, “Well, I’ll push you to the therapy room, we’ll let Miss Lucas know that your walker is still out here.” 

“Cool.” 

And the usual silence that seems to find its way between them fills the air as they make their way to the PT room. And all Emma can think about is the fact that Regina seemed to be jealous at the mention of Graham. 

_ Jealous.  _

Interesting. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading :')

The day after she’s discharged from the hospital, Emma calls Graham to take him up on his offer of being her chauffeur. It’s not ideal, of course, but she can’t quite drive yet, and she needs to go to her physical therapy sessions at the hospital. 

Living back at home, even for just one day feels different. Obviously it’s not going to be as easy as it was before, because about 30% of her leg is missing now. But there are things that make her realize just how much she’s missed being here. The smell of the ocean, the absence of rushing nurses and white walls and floors, the warm feeling she gets when she’s sitting in her back patio, facing the churning waves. 

She tries not to think about the devastating fact that she can't go in the water just yet. 

Graham shows up at 8:30 am the next morning to take her to PT, and he looks like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s supposed to do. 

“Can you..uh, walk?” 

Emma rolls her eyes, pulling herself up from the couch, “With crutches, yeah. Still kinda difficult on my own.” 

“Cool, that’s good.” 

She smirks at him, grabbing her bag and tossing it to him to carry before adjusting her crutches. “Thanks for doing this,” she tells him, “shouldn’t go on for too long, though. I’ll be able to drive myself soon.” 

As they make their way to the car, he turns slightly to look at her and smiles, “it’s no problem, Em. We’ve missed your face around work.” 

“Yeah, I miss it too… Who's got my classes?” 

“Mulan’s still covering for you.” 

“Oh, right. Tell her I said thanks.” 

“Will do, Swan.” 

The drive over is comfortably quiet, and Emma is grateful for the fact that Graham is naturally an easygoing guy to be around. He’s quiet and when he wants to be, pretty funny. And maybe she’s been holding off on having friends because of her ability to flee when one thing goes wrong, but she’s been living in Half Moon Bay for the better part of four years now. She has roots, whether she likes it or not. 

Maybe now she’ll let herself grow close to some friends. 

And maybe find herself a more than friends friend. 

Shaking her head, she ignores the fact that Dr. Mills is the first to pop up under the latter category. 

“So,” Graham starts, eyes staying firm on the road, “Do you know when you’ll be able to.. Uh..” 

“Surf?” 

“Yeah.”   
  


“According to my physical therapist, not for a while. I need to focus on strengthening the remaining muscles I have in my leg.” 

“That blows.” Graham sighs, and despite the less than sympathetic words, Emma can hear the empathy in his voice, so she just smiles and shrugs. 

“I’ll get back out there someday. I’m determined.” 

  
  
  


**….**

  
  
  


Graham helps her carry her bag up to the fourth floor where the therapy room sits. She smirks as they pass Ruby, who stares unabashedly at Graham. Who, like most goofy, caring men, is obliviously unaware of the beautiful woman making eyes at him. 

When they get to the therapy room, Regina is sitting in her office, most likely waiting for Emma. Brown eyes snap up, as if she can sense the blonde’s presence, and she makes her way out. 

“You’re late, Miss Swan.” 

Graham chokes back a laugh, and he sets Emma’s bag down on the bench by the door. Emma doesn’t miss the way Regina’s gaze snaps to him, nor the flash of something that resembles jealousy when she gives him a once over. 

“Sorry, Dr. Mills. Kinda hard to get around these days.” Emma grins, patting her leg gently as if Regina doesn’t know exactly what is wrong with it. 

“Maybe you should leave earlier tomorrow morning.” 

“I’ll give that a try.” 

“Anyway,” Graham cuts in, “I’ll get going now. Pick you up at noon, Em?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” She smiles, and he pats her shoulder before making his way out, sending Regina a charming nod on the way. 

When she turns back, she sees Dr. Mills standing there, arms crossed. “Are you done?” 

“You’re in a great mood this morning, I can tell.” Emma jabs, and Regina deflates. Ever since the day Henry had been present during their session, things have been rather strained between them. Emma doesn’t know how or in what way exactly, but it feels different. 

“My sitter quit.” Regina blurts, and Emma can tell that it surprised her to say it. Nevertheless, she continued on, “My son is home alone and it just makes me a little.. On edge.” 

“Isn’t he like 12? I was watching  _ other  _ kids by then.” Emma tells her, the look on Regina’s face tells her that her words don't help at all. 

“He is almost 11, and we don't live out here normally, so it’s fairly new for him.” 

“So uh, you don't have a uh,” Emma makes a weird gesture with her hands before they fall limp.

“Do get on with the question, Miss Swan.” 

“There’s not a Mister Mills? You know, to watch the kid?” 

Regina’s eyebrows arch and her arms finally uncross after ten minutes of being tightly coiled in front of her chest. “No. I’m divorced. And I never took my husband’s last name, so the only mister Mills in my life is Henry.” She shakes her head after saying those words, pressing her fingertips to her temples, muttering a raspy, “..and why am I telling you this?” 

“Friends talk about their lives with each other.” 

The word makes Regina arch her brow again, “what makes you think we’re friends?” 

“What makes you think we’re not?” 

Red lips purse together, and Emma can tell she’s wearing down those ivory walls Regina keeps up. 

Kind of.

“We’re going to start walking without your crutches. You’ve built up strength in your calf and joints, so we can focus on the rest of your muscles and ligaments today. I’m assuming you’ll be sore after this, but pain means progress.” Her tone is no-nonsense and Emma should take that as her cue to slip into the dumb doctor/patient game they play when Regina doesn’t want to talk about anything  _ remotely  _ un-medical.

So she gives the older woman a break this time, simply nodding as she sets her crutches aside and goes over to the railing made for stability while walking. 

She only has to stop for a break three times during the whole session, and she feels so proud of herself that she can’t help but grin the entire time she waits for Graham to come back.

“You did well, dear.” Dr. Mills comments, rubbing sanitizer all over her hands with a small smile. 

“When do you think I’ll be able to drive? I don’t use my left leg to drive anyways.” 

Regina arches a brow, “I don't think many people do either. But I’d like for you to be more stable walking on your own before you start driving around again.” She pauses and crosses her arms, heels clicking as she moves a bit closer to Emma, “don’t you like being chauffeured around by your um.. Friend?” 

Behind the false wall of curiosity sits something more, something that Emma has learned to identify as jealousy. Why Dr. Mills would be jealous is beyond her, but she can't help but want to milk that, loving the way the older woman fidgets every few minutes.

“Who, Graham? He’s really sweet for doing this.” Is all she says. 

“Indeed he is.” 

Graham knocks at that moment, and Emma grins at him, which brings a confused smile to his face. “How’s it going?” He asks, his hands slipping into the back pockets of his board shorts. He’s 100% the generic image of a surfer, shaggy brown curls, semi-tanned skin, blue eyes, and a cute, charming smile. She’d entertained the thought a few times that if she weren’t completely into women, he would be her type. 

“Great,” Emma smiles, and she turns to Regina, who seems to be the woman from weeks ago, icy and indifferent and covered in armor. It puts the realization into perspective that Regina has grown closer and more comfortable with Emma since they’d first met. “Walking better already.” 

“You ready to head out?” 

She puts on a show of smiling widely at him, more for herself than anyone else, because her new mission isn't to make Regina jealous for the fun of it, but to confirm that she  _ gets  _ jealous. 

And judging from the way she dismisses herself into her office curtly, Emma knows that jealousy is exactly what she sees in those pretty brown eyes. 

  
  
  


**….**

  
  
  


Three days later, Regina casually mentions that Henry will be coming to work with her the next day, so Emma takes that as a hint to bring her board.

It’s hard to look at most days, because it’s her favorite board and there’s a 16 x 8 inch chunk missing from the lower left side. It’s unrideable and a harsh reminder that not only is she unable to ride that one, but  _ any  _ surfboard for a while. 

But the way the little boy had excitedly asked to see it reminds Emma that something good can come out of this bad event. 

So Graham helps her carry it, along with her bag, into the PT room. And true enough, Henry is there waiting in the same wheelchair he’d been in those few weeks ago. His eyes widen when he sees them, and immediately he hops out of the chair, dropping the book in his hand onto the cushion and dashes over to Graham. 

“I gotta get going, I have a session in about twenty. I’ll see you in a few hours, Em.” Graham smiles, setting the board down on the examining table. 

Henry is awestruck, touching the jagged edges where the shark’s teeth had torn through the layers of buoyant material. “It’s huge,” he mutters, and Emma nods silently. 

Regina comes out of her office, eyes darting from Emma to Henry and the board, and Emma thinks she can hear a small gasp come from the other woman’s lips. Brown eyes snap back to green and there’s concern there, “It’s  _ huge..” _

Emma can't help but grin then. Like mother like son. 

“This is so cool, Emma. Obviously you getting hurt isn't cool, but  _ this  _ is cool,” he grins, fingers still brushing over the board. 

Emma only smiles though, because she can’t quite find the words to agree with him yet. It would be cooler if it weren’t her, so she gives the kid the benefit of the doubt. 

“Henry, dear, why don’t you go into my office while Emma and I work, okay? You can come back out in a little while when we’re done.” Regina cuts in, sensing the change in Emma. It’s crazy how easily the older woman can read her now. 

“Okay, mom.” 

It’s quiet after he disappears into her office and closes the door, and Emma takes time to compose herself. 

“Are you alright?” Regina asks, keeping enough distance between them while still being comfortingly close. “You didn’t have to bring it if it’s still hard to look at.” 

Emma smiles at her and shakes her head, “Nah, I wanted to. You don’t get to see this kind of stuff every day, he was just curious.” 

Dark eyes study Emma for a long moment, searching and analyzing almost to a point where Emma feels herself going warm under Dr. Mills’s gaze. Emma swallows, and then Regina closes the gap a little bit more and places her hand softly, almost unnoticeably on Emma’s elbow. It comforts her more than she cares to admit. 

“He’s been reading about sharks since he found out about you.” Regina says, a wry smile tugging at her lips (which happen to be the dark nude color that Emma can’t help but stare at every time she wears it). “I can’t tell which one is more fascinating to him. Sharks or you.” 

“ _ Me?”  _ Sharks, she’d understand. But her? 

“You’re like some hero to him.” 

“For getting attacked by a shark?” 

“For surviving.” 

It’s the first time she’s ever heard someone say that, she thinks. She’s a  _ survivor.  _ Not a victim. She can’t help but get lost in the way Regina’s looking at her, and this moment feels so raw and different and completely unlike their usual  _ them  _ that she wants to burst in nervous laughter. 

“He can have it.” She blurts instead.

“What?” 

“The board. He can keep it.” 

Regina shakes her head, arms crossing, “No, I- its yours.” 

Emma can't help the bitter laugh that slips from her lips, “I don't want it. I have my wetsuit as a reminder enough, anyway.” She shakes her head as Regina’s eyes grow sad, “I just don't think I’ll be able to see it and feel like it’s a.. A cool thing, you know? I was in the water, I was feeling good, the wave I’d just shredded was massive and I felt so free. And then all of a sudden it was ripped out from under me, literally. I thought I’d die, it got so dark under the water that I literally thought I wasn’t coming back up. I saw my board on the surface, the bite taken out of it. It’s not a good memory.” 

She can feel tears on her cheeks, but she’s okay still, she doesn’t feel sad or embarrassed by telling Regina this. She knows she probably should, but she  _ doesn’t.  _

“I think he would love to keep it for you.” Regina says softly, fingers sliding on top of Emma’s forearm and squeezing gently. She takes a breath, as if contemplating her next words, then she speaks again, “thank you.. For sharing that with me.” 

“You’re thanking me?” 

“It’s never easy talking about things that have affected you so deeply, Emma. So, yes. Thank you.” 

And yeah, Emma wants to kiss her pretty badly, but it’s still not a good idea. They’re still in a professional workplace, Regina is still out of her league and Emma is still not exactly sure of what is happening (or not happening?) between them. So she doesn’t kiss her. 

Not this time. 

“Let’s get you up and walking, now; I think you’re ready for a bit more free range. We’ll focus on balance today.” 

“You got it, Dr. Mills.” 

She doesn’t even realize she’s been standing on her own for the past fifteen minutes, with the exception of Regina’s hand on her arm, and she’s not even in pain. 

“And then after, I believe you have some good news for my son.” 

Emma grins, earning a small smile back from the usually hard woman. 

They’re making more progress than Emma though, and it’s not just with her leg. 


	6. Chapter 6

Pool water feels different against her skin. It feels like chemicals and cleanliness and everything the ocean  _ isn’t.  _ But the feeling of being back in the water after months of nothing is surreal.

She tries to float on the surface but something inside her is still scared. She knows it’s a pool but she’s got this fear inside her that won’t go away. The only thing helping her right now is the fact that she’s only in four feet of water, and she can feel the hard floor of the pool. 

“Emma, stop trying to float, you need to work on wading.” 

Dr. Mills’s voice snaps her out of her daze and she stands straight, head falling back in exasperation, “Aren’t you supposed to be in here with me? What if I drown? You can't save me in those heels.” 

Dark eyebrows arch and Regina crosses her stocking clad legs in the chair she’d brought with them to the pool. “Not this time. And as your doctor, I have full confidence that you can not only stand in four feet of water, but also do the exercises I’ve instructed you to do.” 

“Whatever.” Emma sighs, and begins wading from one end of the four foot section to the other. 

“My son is better at not pouting than you are.” 

Emma rolls her eyes and wades, using her natural instinct to paddle with her hands as she goes. She’s itching more than ever to get back out on a board. 

She tries to focus all of her attention on the exercises, and not the thought of Regina getting in the pool with her at some point. She doesn’t know the job description of a Physical Therapist, and Regina’s the kind of doctor who other doctors look up to, but something inside her desperately wishes she’d let her hair down a little and get in the pool. 

She doubts it will happen though.

When she’s done, she wades over to the side of the pool where Regina sits, clipboard on her lap, white coat off and hanging on the back of the chair, and there’s a slight sheen of moisture from the air clinging to her dark skin. She looks radiant. 

Emma crosses her arms on the edge of the pool and rests her chin on her forearms. She doesn’t even care that she’s now blatantly staring at Dr. Mills, who has her glasses propped up on her head now. “Do I get to come back here tomorrow?” Emma asks. 

Dr. Mills bobs her foot as she shrugs, “I suppose. You’re doing well enough that we can move to six feet.” She purses her lips and leans forward, elbows resting on the clipboard, “But please don’t push yourself. I know about your PTSD, I can see your hesitation when your feet leave the pool floor. We’re trying to move forward, not backwards.” 

The way Regina speaks so softly is enough to quell any anger she feels at the words. Of course Regina would know about her PTSD. All of her doctors communicate regularly to keep her recovery going smoothly. 

“I know my limits.” Emma tells her, and then as if she can’t control herself, her eyes dip down to the older woman's chest, where her shirt is lower from the angle in which she sits. As quickly as they went down, they snap back up. 

It’s not quick enough to be lost on the older woman. 

“Good.” Dr. Mills says quickly, sitting up straight and turning her gaze to the clipboard. 

Emma lifts herself out of the water, ignoring the stairs only 5 feet away and sits on the edge of the pool, “You have to get in with me next time though.” 

“We’ll see.” 

“Bring Henry too. If we’re going to do this, let’s at least make it fun.” 

Regina stands up, grabbing one of the towels on the rack by the entrance and hands it to Emma. She purses her lips in an effort to hide a smirk, “This isn't supposed to be  _ fun,  _ Miss Swan.” She pauses, then crosses her arms, “are you implying that I’m not fun?” 

Emma shrugs, droplets of water sliding off her shoulders, “you’ve yet to show me that you have even  _ one  _ fun bone in your body.” 

She sees the way Regina’s eyes linger on her, sees the dark gaze wander a bit before they roll in their usual defiance, “I don’t need to prove to  _ you _ that I’m fun, Miss Swan. I don’t need to be  _ fun  _ at work.” 

Except the way her lips curl a little tells Emma that she probably wants to have fun at work.

“I won’t tell on you. You know, if you decide to let loose a little.” Emma says, pulling herself up and wrapping the towel around her body. She’s in a one piece and some board shorts, but she’s showing more skin than usual, and Regina’s eyes can’t seem to stay on Emma’s face. 

And Emma can’t seem to stop enjoying it. 

“Thank you so very much, dear. I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Emma grins, eyes dipping down (because if Regina can cop a look, so can she) to Regina’s hips and ass as she walks toward the pool entrance. “No problem,” She mutters, but it’s lost on both of them because the moment is just too thick now. From the warmth of the pool room and from the way they hardcore flirted just now. 

And yes, that was  _ definitely  _ some form of flirting. Emma won’t take any other explanation for it. 

Regina tells her to get dressed in the women’s changing room and meet her back in the PT room for one last checkup before they’re done for the day. And Emma decides to take her time because she loves the way Regina’s eyes crinkle and jaw clenches with frustration when she’s kept waiting. 

She wraps her hair in a towel, balanced on her head and changes back into her jeans and grey long sleeved shirt. She knows she should be using her crutches as she makes her way out of the bathroom and down the hallway away from the therapy pool, but it feels so good, so natural to be able to move freely again after so many months. 

She takes the elevator back up to the third floor, mind unable to drift far from Regina. Stone Cold Regina, who seems to be pretty soft at certain, rare times. 

When she makes it to the PT room, she pauses, hearing Regina talk softly on the other side of the door. 

“I believe it’s next to the refrigerator, darling.” Emma hears, and she can’t help but smile. Apparently now is one of those rare times. 

“Please don’t make me regret hiring that woman, Henry- okay, fine. Just one though.” Regina sighs, and Emma thinks she should stop listening now. It’s wrong and a huge invasion of privacy and- 

“Emma is doing well.” 

And that was unexpected. Emma presses her ear harder against the door, as if it would magically enhance Regina’s words. 

“Yes. We do get along well.. What are you trying to say, Henry?” A pause, then another sigh, “No, because it’s inappropriate and she is my patient -  _ just  _ my patient.” 

Emma pulls away from the door, not knowing if she heard correctly or if she’s over analyzing the situation. She bites back a smile, because who knew that Regina and her son talk about Emma? But also, the topic. 

The topic seems interesting and  _ totally  _ none of her business. 

She takes a deep breath and pushes through the door, crutches in one hand and her bag on the other shoulder. 

Regina quickly tells Henry she has to go, tossing her phone onto the bench, “Took you long enough.” She clears her throat, standing straighter than before. 

Emma shrugs, tossing her bag onto the floor haphazardly, “you know how swimsuits are. Such a pain to get out of.” 

Regina arches a brow, but doesn’t respond. 

Emma finds it difficult to hide her grin as she sees the familiar way the older woman works her jaw. Predictable as always.

“Why aren’t you using your crutches?” Dr. Mills mode is on now, full force and she’s not here to play. The transitions Regina makes are almost enough to give Emma whiplash. 

“My leg doesn’t hurt that much right now, and I figured standing in an elevator and walking down a couple of hallways wouldn’t do too much damage. 

“Don’t do anything unless I tell you to.” Dr. Mills snaps, and Emma furrows her brows.

“Regina,” Emma starts, and the look on the other woman’s face goes from irritation to some form of bewilderment. And Emma realizes a little late that she had said Dr. Mills’s first name and not her title. She decides to roll with it though, because for some reason that had changed the direction of whatever argument was about to go down. “I know how my body works. I know  _ you  _ know more, but I can tell when I’m pushing it. I’m sorry I didn’t use my crutches, but I really didn’t think they were necessary. I felt fine the whole way up. If I feel anything slightly off I’ll take pressure off my leg, I promise.” Her voice is soft as she speaks, and she had stepped closer to Regina without either of them noticing. 

“Fine.” Regina murmurs, “I just want you to tell me things like this. If you think that you’re ready for more leg use then I am willing to work with you.” 

Emma didn’t expect that. The calm, soft response. She sees Regina’s hands fidgeting in front of her and it takes everything in her not to reach out and link their fingers in an effort to quell the nervous tick. 

Regina moves away from Emma though, breaking the moment with a breath as she clears her throat. “I believe we can end this session right after I check your leg.” She says, almost like a dismissal. 

Emma realizes two things that day; one, Regina definitely feels something more for her based off that phone call with Henry. Two, Emma saying Regina’s name out loud does something to  _ both  _ of them. 

  
  
  


**….**

  
  
  


“Come on, you brought your suit! You have to get in.” Emma nearly whines, fingers gripping the side of the pool to keep her afloat in the deep end. 

Arguing with Regina about whether or not she should get in the pool too has taken some fear out of Emma, distracting her with a task that doesn’t have a single thing to do with her recovery. 

Regina shakes her head, sitting in the chair across the pool, near the shallow end, “I brought it in case you needed assistance in the six foot mark. You’re doing just fine on your own, though.” 

“I’m holding onto the  _ wall.”  _ She deadpans, making her way back to the shallow end. “Aren't you  _ supposed  _ to get in?” 

“Technically, I don't even have to help you with your swimming at this point. A personal trainer could easily take over.” 

Emma pauses, shocked at that fact, “Then why are you still helping me, Dr. Mills?” 

And  _ that  _ seems to throw Regina off. 

She clenches her jaw, eyes hard and lost in thought for a few long moments, before she pushes herself out of the chair and grabs her bag, “Don’t leave three feet until I return, Miss Swan, or we will go back to the PT room.” 

Emma dips her mouth under water, hiding the smile as she nods quickly. Green eyes watch as Dr. Mills disappears into the women’s bathroom, and she feels electric shocks go up and down her body. 

Nothing really prepares her for the way her entire body lights up with excitement when Regina comes back out of the bathroom, shoulders bare, hair twisted up in a black butterfly clip, chest covered by a tight black one piece swimsuit. Her hips are covered by the towel, which stops below her knee, and Emma just wants to reach out and pull it away. 

Obviously, she doesn’t do so, but the urge is nearly stifling. 

“Turn around for a moment.” Regina orders, fingers tight on the towel to keep it closed. 

Emma rolls her eyes, “Seriously?” When Regina just stares at her, she turns to face the other side of the pool with a sigh, “Are you shy or something?” 

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I usually don’t show this much skin to my patients.” 

“It’s just skin. You’ve seen me practically naked.” Emma turns back around when she hears water splash, and she catches a glimpse of tan hips and thighs before they disappear under the glistening blue water. 

“So has Dr. Knight, as well as Nurse Lucas.” 

Emma wants to retort with something flirty or snarky like,  _ well your opinion is the only one that matters here,  _ but she holds that in too. She can already tell Dr. Mills is out of her comfort zone. 

“Thank you for coming in with me.” She says instead, nothing but genuine appreciate in her voice. 

Dr. Mills only nods, but her features have softened. 

She looks gorgeous right now, Emma thinks. She’s  _ always  _ gorgeous but right now, with the way her shoulders and arms and some of her chest is exposed, the tight black material clinging to her small but toned frame, and her hair (which is usually down and framing her face) pulled back, she looks absolutely stunning. 

Emma tries not to think too hard about the sharp jawline that’s calling out to her lips. 

“It’s kind of pointless, you know.” Dr. Mills says matter of factly. 

“What is?” 

“Me being in here.” 

Emma shrugs, the cool water slipping around her shoulders, “It’s relaxing and you always seem tense.” 

“I have a kindle and a bath with 5 different jets at home. Both of which I indulge in quite often.” 

Emma gulps at the thought of Regina in a bathtub, jets massaging her naked skin in five different places… She clears her throat, shifting closer to Dr. Mills as she smiles, “I’d argue that a hospital pool is more relaxing.” 

Regina’s eyebrow arches in amusement, “I believe we’re going to have to agree to disagree.” 

“Guess so.” 

They’re close now, chests almost touching, and Regina doesn’t seem to notice. 

The attraction between them is thrumming loudly between them, now undeniably apparent, and Emma hopes that this isn’t enough to scare Regina off completely. 

She feels her hand lift up, unable to stop herself as she slips it slowly onto the dip of Regina’s waist. The older woman’s breath hitches softly, and Emma instinctively tightens her fingers when she thinks Regina is about to pull away. 

Dark eyes bore into her green ones, Regina’s plump lips pressing into a line softly as a war visibly rages in her mind. 

She wants to lean in so badly. Lean in and press her lips against Regina’s, feel the way those lips part and feel her gasp. But no matter how much she wants it, she knows this is the worst place and time. She’s sure it will ruin things. 

Instead, she says the first thing that comes to mind, wanting to break the tension as softly as possible. 

“How many laps today?” 

Regina’s gaze flick from Emma’s lips up to her eyes, and she pulls away slowly, letting out a breath. “Ten.” 

Emma grins and pushes herself back, diving under the water and using her legs alone to propel her forward. The water feels cold on her face, and it feels amazing. 

  
_ She  _ feels amazing. 


	7. Chapter 7

On the last day of Emma’s in-hospital Physical Therapy, she finds herself feeling anxious. Maybe because of the fact that she’ll have to operate on her own now and it’s up to her to manage her exercises, or maybe it’s because she won’t be seeing Regina very much anymore. That is, if Regina decides to decline Emma’s invitation. 

The weight of that is heavy on her conscience, it’s totally inappropriate to invite your doctor to the beach to watch you surf, but Regina has impacted her life so much over the past several months now that Emma isn’t sure exactly how she’ll carry on properly  _ without _ her. So she’s willing to bite the metaphorical bullet.

As dramatic as the thought of being even a little dependent on Regina is, it’s also what makes her anxiety spike just a little more. 

She walks slowly toward the PT room, stopping at the doors to take several deep breaths. When she pushes the door open, she looks around until her eyes land on Regina, who is setting up the treadmill. She’s bent over at the waist on her knees, rooting around behind a stack of chairs for the plug in, and it offers a wonderful sight. The slit at the back of her skirt revealing just a couple of inches of smooth, toned thighs. 

Her mouth waters just a little. 

“Morning,” she says, and Regina jumps, head bumping on the lip of one of the chairs. 

“ _ Ow,” _ she hisses, scooting back and turning to glare at Emma, “Try not to sneak up on people, Miss Swan. If you can help it.” 

“And miss out on  _ that?  _ No thanks.” She replies with a grin, and then the look on Regina’s face as she crosses her arms makes that smile wane a little bit. Emma glances warily at the treadmill, “You’re going to make me run on my last day of therapy?” 

Regina’s only response is a smirk. Great.

She’s sore as hell when they’re done, but she doesn't let that deter her from her main goal; grow the balls to invite Regina to the beach. The little slab of sand and waves that not many humans go to, where they’d be all alone outside of the hospital. As something other than doctor and patient. (she doesn’t know what they are yet, because friends doesn't sound right). 

Regina seems to notice how nervous Emma is, because she arches a brow, asking, “what’s going on with you?” 

Emma looks at her then, taking in the crisp white shirt, the gold belt buckle attached to a black leather belt, and a tight black skirt hugging her body just the right way. She would be an idiot not to take this chance, right? 

Right. 

She pulls in a breath, eyes cast down to her fidgeting hands, and stutters out, “It’s going to suck not seeing you every day.” Like a middle schooler. She shakes her head, avoiding eye contact, “I mean, you’ve helped me so much, it would be kinda.. I don’t know, weird if you didn’t see me surf at least once.” 

She’s fucking it up, she can tell. Because now she’s looking at Regina, seeing the confusion on her pretty features. “What are you asking me?” Dr. Mills asks softly, and Emma offers a sheepish smile. 

“Come to my beach. I mean- the beach right behind my house.” She pulls out a piece of paper, one that she’d stared at long and hard all day yesterday after having written the directions to the beach she surfs at. “If you want. It would mean a lot to me if you came.” Emma’s cheeks tint pink, and she’s never struggled  _ this hard  _ when talking to someone. “I mean, if you showed up.”

“You want me to watch you surf?” 

“Well, at least watch me try to surf.” 

Regina looks at the piece of paper, eyes shiny and dark, “You’re not my patient anymore, Miss Swan, there’s no need to keep the niceties up.” She says slowly, and it takes a lot of effort to ignore the sting Emma feels at the words. 

“I  _ want  _ you there. As Regina. Not my physical therapist or anything else.” She pushes the piece of paper into Regina’s hand and claps the other woman’s fingers around it, skin tingling in the spots that are touching Regina. “Please don't make me say it out loud.” 

Regina tenses defensively, “Say  _ what  _ out loud?” 

Emma steps closer then, never letting go of Regina’s hand, “You know what I’m talking about. You knew in the pool, you knew every time you looked at my lips-” 

“Don’t. Whatever you’re trying to… to make up, it’s not happening.” 

Emma sighs, refusing to back down now. “I know this is way unexpected, okay? I didn't think anything like this would happen. I’m not saying you have to do anything drastic.” She dips her head a little to look the older woman right in the eye, “Saturday morning at 9. I’ll be out in the water. Bring your son if you want, but.. Just come.” 

  
  
  


**….**

  
  
  


She’s been to the ocean only a handful of times since the accident. Mostly to take a walk and breathe in that salty sea air, she’s even put on her bathing suit to try and get in at some point, but something has always held her back from going in the water. Maybe it’s the possibility of something big and dark with lots of sharp teeth and black eyes lurking beneath the waves that scares her, or maybe it’s the thought that she’ll never surf like she did before ever again. Either way, she’s terrified. 

Saturday morning, she finds herself standing on the beach. She’s in her wetsuit and bikini bottoms, her second favorite board hooked under her arm, and she stands still, looking out at the frothy waves crashing along the shore. 

Never in her life had she thought she’d get attacked by a shark. The chances of it are 1 in 11 million; and somehow she became a statistic, she became that  _ one _ . 

She figures that by now, Regina won't be showing up, because it’s nearly 10 am. And she realizes that maybe thinking there could be something more than doctor and patient was dumb. The leagues between them are far too big for Emma to ever actually have a chance with Regina. 

She takes a large breath, feels her diaphragm stretch, then steps forward. And then another step, and another, and another until finally, she’s ankle deep in the cold water. Pin pricks shoot up her body, and the only reminder of what had happened to her shows in the form of numbness. Her nerves are still damaged, they could be forever, but she’s walking; walking into the water with every passing moment. 

She slides onto the board, belly pressing against the thick plastic, and she paddles. 

The waves aren’t too bad today, usually she’d wait until they’re bigger, but for now she’s okay with trying to get her footing right on some small ones.

When the first wave comes, she rips her hands through the water, pushing her toward the growing wave, and when it’s time, she pushes herself up, feeling the muscles and tissue pull in her leg. Her balance is thrown, and she’s diving into the water with a quick breath intake.

She tries hard not to open her eyes, doesn't want to look down in case there might be something there, so she swims back up, hooking her body back over her board, and faces the horizon again. 

She does this several times, spending almost 45 minutes in the water, trying to remain balanced for at least a few minutes. 

She knew it would be hard, but she didn’t anticipate the burning in her thighs. Not even a full day of intense surfing caused this much pain before the accident. 

Another wave breaks the water, and she can tell it’s going to be big. She contemplates ducking under it and calling it a day, but as it grows, she feels her blood boil. Her fingers tighten on the board before she makes the split decision to go for it. 

She paddles towards it, then pushes up on her board, steadying her feet before she even thinks about standing up, and then she’s up. 

Arms out for balance, feet spread and solid on her board, and she feels so  _ free. _

She can't stop the grin that bursts across her face. 

She ducks into the tube as the wave crashes over, and she’s back where she belongs, surrounded by sparkling blue and white, feeling the water as she glides through the tube, unbothered. 

This is the most hope she’s felt in so long, and she can't help but laugh out loud, nearly screaming out in happiness. 

When she comes out the other end, she hears cheering. The last thing she sees before crashing into the water is Regina and Henry on the beach, Henry’s arms waving back and forth in excitement. 

She swims fast, not bothering to grab her board as she heads toward shore. The tug on her right foot of the strap slows her down, but as soon as she hits sand, she’s stumbling out of the water. 

“Emma, that was so cool!” Henry yells, running towards her to hug her, He ignores her protest, wrapping his arms around her, “I don't care that you're all wet, that was the coolest thing ever! You went in _ side  _ the wave!” 

“It’s called the tube, kid.” 

“What does it look like?” 

She can't help but laugh, wiping water from her eyes as she breathes heavily. Her legs feel like jelly now, and she can't help but lower herself to the sand, “It’s one of the most beautiful things ever. Maybe you’ll see it someday.” She grins, looking over the kid’s shoulder to see Regina walking over to them slowly, heels in her hand. Emma sees it, laughing incredulously, “You wore a skirt suit and heels to the  _ beach?”  _

Henry rolls his eyes, “She had to go to work for a little bit, otherwise we would’ve been able to come earlier.” 

Regina arches a brow, “We were lucky enough to see you surf that last wave.” 

“ _ And  _ your wipeout!”

Emma grins at him, fingers absentmindedly kneading at her leg. She’s done surfing for the day. “Well, you were lucky, because I think I’m done for a couple of days.”

Regina kneels down, fingers pushing Emma’s away to feel around, warm fingers heating up cold, wet skin, “Your muscles are spasming. It’s good that you stopped when you did. You could’ve pulled something.” 

Except Emma doesn't hear much, because Regina is leaning over her, fingers on her leg, and she smells like some kind of warm, cozy scent. And it hits her all at once that she’s  _ here.  _ Regina showed up despite her refusal to acknowledge the thing brewing between them. 

She can't help herself, nor can she stop the myriad of emotion swelling through her, so she reaches around Regina’s shoulder and pulls her close. Work clothes be damned. 

A yelp escapes Regina’s throat as she tumbles forward, hand catching her on Emma’s other thigh, and surprisingly, she doesn’t pull away. She only growls out a, “You’re ruining my clothes, Miss Swan.” 

“I’ll pay for your dry cleaning.” 

Regina sighs, relaxing into Emma’s hold, “you better.” 

Emma pulls back, seeing Henry pretending to look for shells with a wide grin on his face, then turns back to Regina. “You know what this means, right?” She murmurs, tugging Regina closer. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Emma rolls her eyes, then squints, “Then tell me no.” 

Regina breathes out, looking over at Henry, then back to Emma. Her dark eyes seem to be taking on a stormy shade, morphing from light brown to an opaque black, “no,” she whispers, leaning in closer, and Emma’s breath hitches. 

“No as in ‘no you-” 

Regina cuts her off, pressing their lips together softly, her warm fingers clasping Emma’s cheeks firmly. 

It only lasts a few seconds before they break apart, eyes locking together. Regina’s cheeks are pinker than Emma has ever seen them, and she wants to kiss the blush away. 

“I tried to talk some sense into her. All I heard at home was  _ Emma  _ this and  _ Miss Swan _ that.” Henry pipes in. “Also, that was gross.” 

Regina scowls at him, and Emma laughs, “Well. I suggest you look away then.” 

She doesn't waste a second before bringing Regina’s delicious, red, plump lips back to her own, this time not wasting a second before pushing her tongue languidly into Regina’s mouth. And she suppresses a groan when Regina kisses back with just as much passion. 

That thought earlier? About never having experienced so much hope while surfing through the tube? 

Well this moment tops it. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> last chapter, then a short epilogue. thanks for reading this my friends

**Two weeks later**

Emma tries not to let herself be nervous while she sits on her board, legs dangling in the water as she watches the horizon for any incoming waves. Regina is relaxing on the beach, curled up cozily on a blanket in the sand, watching and waiting for Emma’s first wave of the day.

It’s not like she hasn’t surfed in front of Regina before. The first time she surfed post accident, Regina saw, and that was the day everything changed in her life. She became a surfer again - and she and Regina finally crossed that line. It was such a perfect day.

And besides, there are plenty of other things to be nervous about, like their date at Emma’s house tonight, in fact. They’ll be alone, all night, with alcohol and food and her warm, cozy couch. And judging by the intense makeout sessions that have taken place over the past two weeks, it’s safe to say that tonight is shaping up to be _ the _night. That’s definitely something she can be nervous about.

She feels the water around her pull, and she refocuses her gaze on the horizon, seeing the start of a wave forming in the distance. It’s going to be a big one, but her nearly non-stop practice over the past few weeks tells her that she’ll be okay. Despite the fact that she and Regina are no longer professional, the older woman still works with her, helping to build her balance and strengthen her muscles. And as she pushes up onto her board once the wave is close, she can feel the improvement; the lack of pain and stretch in her leg. 

Regina’s smile is so big, Emma doesn’t even have to look over to see it. It matches her own as she rips through the wave, touching the wall of water as she glides by.

When the wave dies down, she dives into the water, then climbs back onto her board to paddle to shore. 

Regina is holding a towel when she finally makes it to the sand, dragging her board along with her. She drops it next to the large, thick afghan blanket Regina is sitting on and takes the towel with a smile, “You looked a little tense in the beginning,” she notes, leaning back on her elbows. 

Emma shrugs, “I’m always nervous when I’m on my board like that waiting for a wave. I feel like a sitting duck.” she doesn’t feel so silly saying stuff like this anymore because Regina never judges. Not even when they were just doctor and patient. “It’s getting better though. I had some nice thoughts to distract me until that wave came.” She lays the towel down over the afghan

A dark brow arches, “Oh? And what did these thoughts consist of?” 

Emma blushes, sitting down on her board and nudging the sand with a wet foot, “our date tonight.”

Regina nods, “well, I hope you plan on being a perfect gentlewoman tonight, because I don't do anything... Intimate… on the first date.”

Emma squints, “we did intimate stuff _last_ _night_. And by the way you were nearly begging for me to keep kissing you, you seemed pretty okay with it getting more intimate. I bet if the hospital hadn’t called, we wouldn’t have stopped.” 

Dark eyes roll in exasperation, but her pink cheeks say just how close to the forefront of her mind the memory of the night prior is. “We would have.”

“Mhm, sure.” 

“Aren't you going to surf some more? We can't be here all day, Miss Swan,” Regina says, amusement and annoyance in her tone. She tends to do this when the conversation is turned around on her. Emma supposes she’s not used to being _ wrong _sometimes. 

Emma grins, shaking her head before kneeling on the blanket and pressing a salty kiss against Regina’s lips. She lets herself linger, because Regina doesn't seem to mind and because she _can. _“A few more waves then we can head to my place and warm up,” she says after pulling away, eyes fixed on the older woman's plump lips, now glistening from the saltwater on Emma's.

Regina hums, eyes droopy, and Emma can't help but lean back in for another delectable kiss. She doesn't think she'll ever get over how it feels to be this close to Regina. When she pulls away, she murmurs, “Well go on, then,” before nudging Emma away. 

  
  


**….**

  
  


Afternoon seeps into evening as both women spend the later part of their day prepping dinner. Henry is at home again, this time with his new sitter, who, Regina had casually mentioned with a glint in her eye, would be staying with Henry overnight. And now, Emma feels tingles shoot up and down her body every time she happens to remember that Regina won't have to go home at any specific time. It leaves many doors and possibilities open for the direction of their date. 

She leans against her counter, watching as the older woman chops up vegetables, and Emma can't help but swoon just a little at how beautiful Regina is in the sleeveless red dress that hugs every curve of her body, glossy black hair coiffed and resting softly on her shoulders. She has to fight the urge not to press herself right up against Regina at all times.

And she can't help but think that the contrast between now and a month ago is drastic; where Regina was closed off and uptight and ever so professional, but is now relaxed, barefoot, humming softly as she cooks in Emma’s kitchen. Emma presses her lips together at the wonderful, domestic thought, and she has to stifle a grin.

Without looking up from her task, Regina's voice rings through the warm, charged air, “staring at me won't get this meal in the oven.” 

Emma smiles, biting her lip as she slinks up behind the older woman and presses her hands to the curves of her soft hips, “How long did it take you to realize you _ like _liked me?” She asks, ignoring Regina’s previous statement. She kisses the side of her neck, letting her lips linger on the heat that radiates from her skin. She smells good; a mixture of sweet and spicy, and it’s damn near intoxicating. 

Regina pauses for a moment, setting the knife down and pressing her palms flat against the counter. Her head tilts to the side to give Emma room for her lips as she murmurs out a soft answer, “not very long. Which was unusual for me, considering I hadn’t even thought about pursuing a relationship with anyone since my divorce.” 

Emma rests her chin on Regina’s shoulder, “I didn’t consider even having _friends_ till a few months ago.” 

She’s being nudged back then, and she holds in a pout as Regina turns around to face her, “Why’s that?” 

“I don’t usually stay in one place longer than a few years,” she shrugs in response, “no family to keep me in one spot, so I usually just travel the coasts. Before I moved here, I lived in Florida, then New York, and just a bunch of small beach towns in between.” 

Regina nods, eyes dipping low before going back up to gaze into green ones. “How long have you been here?” 

“In Half Moon Bay? Around four and a half years.” Emma bites her lip, pulling Regina closer, “I kinda have to stay now, though.” she dips her head and kisses Regina, nipping at her plump bottom lip, “I’ve accidentally planted roots.”

“Hmmm, accidentally,” Regina mutters, kissing her back with just a little more passion, “I think Henry and I might have to stay, too. He likes it here and.. so do I.” 

“Really?” 

“Most of my work is here and in the surrounding towns, anyway. I’m stable enough in my practice to work from wherever I live. I think it’s time I focus on more than just work now, though. My son, relaxing, and more recently..” she pauses, trailing her hand up in between Emma’s breasts to rest on her sternum, “..romance.” 

“Romance,” Emma repeats, and they’re both so quiet now that the sexual tension and passion is nearly audible in the small kitchen. “It’s kinda crazy,” she blushes, “I didn’t think you would.. I don't know..” 

“Give in so easily?” 

“We’ll call it that.” 

Regina sighs, staying pressed right against Emma, “Normally, I would ignore things like.. Flirtation or lingering looks. But you were so adamant in my thoughts, I couldn't not think about you. And.. This is so much more enjoyable than being alone.” 

Emma chuckles, “I’m glad I fill your time.” 

“My time, my head, my heart..” 

Emma shakes her head and leans in, kissing her deeply and firmly. Dinner be damned, they can eat later. Her heart thrums faster as she pushes the older woman back against the counter, their bodies molding together. Her tongue glides across Regina’s bottom lip before dipping into the older woman’s mouth, and Regina moans again, wrapping her arms around Emma’s neck tightly. 

She lifts Regina up onto the counter, pushing the hem of her red dress up so that her hips can settle in between caramel colored thighs, “Technically, the past few weeks have been basically dates. Beach trips, dinners, video games with Henry..” 

“Say what you want to say, Emma,” Regina breathes, wiggling her hips closer to the edge of the counter so that every inch of their bodies are pressed together.

“Can dinner wait, because I _ really _just want to make love to you right now.” 

“Yes.” 

Emma sighs in relief and leans back in for a heated kiss. The half chopped vegetables lay dormant next to them, “You don’t care that our first time is in my kitchen?” 

“There will be a first time in every room, I hope, so no, I don’t mind.” 

Emma lets out a quivery breath and nods quickly, reaching behind Regina to unzip her dress. It falls loosely around her shoulders, and Emma can't help but press her palms to the hot planes of the other woman’s back and shoulders. She skims her fingertips over the shoulder straps of the dress, letting them fall around Regina’s arms, and Emma’s surprised to find no bra underneath. Her nipples are nearly poking out, if Emma were to move the dress down another inch, Regina would be completely exposed. “Damn, woman,” she mumbles, unable to tear her gaze from the enticing amount of cleavage on display.

Regina bites a grin back, “Please, carry on, Miss Swan.” 

It only takes a few short moments for Emma to push the dress down to Regina’s waist, the older woman slipping her arms out and resting them on Emma’s shoulders. 

Emma palms both breasts while her mouth kisses and licks and nips every inch of smooth skin within reach. She feels the vibrations of Regina’s moans against her fingers and lips, and she can't help but let out a small groan in response. 

She pushes the hem up all the way, leaving the entire dress bunched up around Regina’s stomach, and Emma kisses her way down Regina’s body. 

When she slips black lace panties down Regina’s legs, she wastes no time in kissing the inside of toned thighs, trailing up until her mouth is nearly buried inside of her lover. She watches Regina hold herself up against the counter with one hand, then feels the other slip into her hair. “Do it,” Regina moans, tightening her fingers around blonde strands and hooking a leg over Emma's shoulder. And she doesn’t need to be told twice. 

Her first thought: Regina tastes exactly how she smells. Sweet with a little bit of a bite and so, _ so _addicting. Emma moans as her tongue dips inside of Regina, curling up until the older woman is arching. She moans herself, unable to stop the sound from leaving her throat as she moves her mouth up to Regina's clit and pushes two fingers in slowly. It's overwhelming how hot and tight Regina fits around her.

It doesn’t take long at all before the older woman is mumbling something about how close she is. Just a few hard sucks on her desperate clit and a few more slow pumps of her fingers, and Regina is there, moaning Emma’s name as she comes apart. Her thighs tighten around Emma's head and fingers pull hard on the hair at her scalp.

Emma rests on her knees on the floor, letting her weight settle on her heels, “Wow. You’re sexy.” 

Regina’s still visibly coming down from her high to care about modesty, and Emma takes that moment to look at the wet, swollen juncture between her thighs. “So sexy.” She says again, almost dreamily. 

Regina rolls her eyes lazily, sliding off the counter to her feet. She holds onto the ledge while her legs are still numb, and Emma can only grin cockily. “Get off the floor, dear. That can’t be good for your leg.” 

Emma stands up, tucking Regina’s panties into her back pocket and ignoring the scowl she’s given, “Let’s finish dinner now. I’m starving.” 

“Don’t you want me to-” 

“I need to get my energy up, then after dinner, we’re going to my room and not leaving until morning.” 

Regina raises her eyebrows, slowly slipping her dress back into place, “very well. Cut the rest of those vegetables, please, I’ll make the chicken and the sauce.” 

Emma grins, giving Regina's behind a firm pat, “Yes, ma’am.” 

“Use all of the vegetables,” Regina says, not bothering to look over her shoulder, “I won't even consider taking a break as soon as we step foot in that bedroom.” 

Emma gulps, once again saying the only thing her brain can seem to come up with at the moment. “Yes ma’am.”


	9. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading, fellow swen. i really really hope you liked it. more work from me to come in the future.

_ **Epilog****ue** _

Being attacked by a shark wasn’t particularly in Emma Swan’s plans. Neither was spending nearly two months in a hospital or three months after that going to physical therapy almost daily. 

She didn’t plan on staying in Half Moon Bay for longer than a few years, tops; her plan was to surf, make some money, then dip out. She didn’t plan on staying for over five years or making friends or finding someone she could seriously see herself spending the rest of her life with. 

But it happened. All of it. Her life has always been a storm, something that she could navigate mostly, but not all the time. It had never been easy on her. Things had been ripped from her more times than she cared to count. Families, memories, even her ability to do the one thing she loves most in the world. And somehow, while residing in a small beach town in Northern California, she’d been able plant roots, make friends, and rise above that metaphorical storm. 

And now, nearly eight months later, she’s living the best life she could possibly have with a beautiful woman to support her, a cool kid to play video games with and to teach how to surf, and coworkers that have turned into good friends. 

And for the first time in her life, she’s happy right where she is.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you loved it by leaving kudos and reviewing!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Above The Storm [Art]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20482508) by [swensundayshow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/swensundayshow/pseuds/swensundayshow)


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